IN  MAN 


CRANE  &  CQWPAMV,  TOPEKA 


OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 
OF 


••At  tht  month  of  the  t-aTton.    .    .    .     irhn-f  Claris*  xtood  earnestly 
tratchiiuj  thtir  action*."    (  Pag««  94.) 


{pioneer  from 


Bn 
of  tbe  IRaton  IRangc 


COLONEL  HENRY  INMAN 


Crane   &  Company,  Publishers 
Topeka,  Kansas 


Copyright  1898,  by 
CRANK  <fe  Co. 


Tlfflife, 

THE    MOST    ESTIMABLE    OF   WOMEN. 


M582843 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.— The  Log  Cabin  of  the  Raton 
Range 5 

CHAPTER  II.— Dick  Curtis  the  Hunter— 
Clariss 13 

CHAPTER  III.— Dick  hears  of  the  "Hunt 
er's  Paradise  " 20 

CHAPTER  IV.— The  Wedding  —  Good-bye 

to  "  Kaintuck  " 30 

CHAPTER    V.— Clariss,    the    "  Golden 
Fawn  " 35 

CHAPTER  VI. — The   First    Shadow   upon 
the  Cabin  Home 39 

CHAPTER  VII.— Off  for  the  Spanish  Peaks,  50 

CHAPTER  VIII.— A  Ghastly  Discovery  ...  55 

CHAPTER  IX. — The  Shadows  Deepen 69 

CHAPTER  X.— The  Mysterious  Trail 80 

CHAPTER  XI. — Heart-breaking   Surprise 
to  the  Lonely  Wife 89 

3 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XII. — Clariss  Goes  in  Search  of 
Help 98 

CHAPTER  XIII.— Rescue  of   the   Lost 
Hunter 102 

CHAPTER  XIV.— A  Joyful  Home-coming,  118 

CHAPTER  XV.— Dick  Tells  the  Story  of 
the  Squaw's  Terrible  Revenge 126 

CHAPTER  XVI.— Counting  their  Gold...  151 

CHAPTER  XVII.— Farewell  to  the  Raton 
Range 165 


CHAPTER  I. 

TTbe  %o0  Cabin  ot  tbe 
IRaton 


OVER  forty  years  ago  there  stood 
at  the  entrance  of  one  of  the  great 
canons  in  the  Raton  Range,  a  rude 
cabin  constructed  in  the  simplest  style 
of  backwoods  architecture  :  unhewn 
logs  placed  together  at  the  ends,  after 
the  manner  in  which  children  build 
their  corncob  playhouses  in  the  coun 
try,  and  the  interstices  "chinked" 
with  mud. 

It  had  only  two  windows  and  one 
door,  the  latter  formed  of  rough  clap 
boards  fastened  together  with  wooden 
5 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

pins  and  hung  on  hinges  of  the  same 
material. 

The  flat  roof  was  composed  of  simi 
larly  roughly  riven  clapboards  which 
were  kept  in  position  by  long,  heavy 
oak  saplings  laid  lengthwise  on  the 
building  at  intervals  from  each  other, 
and  over  the  whole  a  mass  of  earth 
nearly  two  feet  deep  was  deposited. 

The  floor  of  the  hut,  as  in  all  of 
the  houses  of  the  poor  in  New  Mexico, 
was  the  natural  earth,  and  the  fire 
place  a  huge  affair  built  diagonally 
across  the  corner  of  the  single  room, 
of  adobe  or  sunburnt  brick. 

Every  vestige  of  that  little  home 
in  the  mountains  has  long  since  dis 
appeared :  in  fact,  so  nearly  has  its 
history  been  relegated  by  remorseless 
time  to  oblivion,  but  few  inhabitants 
6 


THE  LOG   CABIN. 

of  that  now  relatively  populous  region 
are  aware  that  it  ever  existed. 

Where  the  smoke  of  the  red  man's 
solitary  tepee  curled  in  thin  wreaths 
among  the  giant  cottonwoods  on  the 
bottom,  near  the  stream  that  ran  by 
the  door,  the  track  of  the  great  At- 
chison,  Topeka  &  Santa  Fe  Railway 
now  crosses,  and  the  echoes  of  the 
primitive  forest,  the  rocky  canons  and 
the  cloud-capped  peaks  are  awakened 
by  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  "Cyclone 
Train  "  as  it  rushes  around  the  awful 
curves  and  on  the  brink  of  terrible 
precipices  with  breathless  speed,  bear 
ing  its  heavy  burden  of  living  freight 
to  the  golden  shores  of  the  Pacific. 

The  spot  where  this  simple  hut  was 
located    is    one    of    the    most    pictur 
esquely  beautiful  nooks  in  all  the  vast 
7 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

continental  chain  of  the  Rockies. 
The  unbroken  wall  of  the  canon  ri8es 
abruptly  on  one  side  for  more  than 
two  thousand  feet,  where  under  its 
deep  shadow  the  cabin  snugly  nes 
tled  ;  at  the  opposite  side,  scarcely 
four  hundred  feet  distant,  a  corre 
sponding  wall  shoots  up  to  nearly  the 
same  height. 

This  fearful  rent  in  the  range  was 
made  thousands  of  ages  ago  by  one  of 
those  terrible  convulsions  of  nature 
sufficiently  potent  to  engulf  an  At 
lantis,  visible  on  every  hand  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains  —  for  it  is  easily  dis 
cernible  that  the  two  walls  of  the  im 
mense  canon  were  originally  joined, 
and  what  was  primitively  a  great  crack 
in  the  solid  granite,  erosion  and  denu 
dation,  requiring  aeons  of  time,  have 
8 


THE  LOG   CABIN. 

worn    the    terrific    gorge    through    the 
once  impenetrable  barrier! 

The  broad  entrance  to  the  canon 
and  immediate  environment  of  where 
the  cabin  was  built  is  a  perfect  wilder 
ness  of  beauty.  A  hundred  perennial 
springs,  accessory  sources  of  the  tor 
rent  that  in  the  early  summer  rushes 
madly  through  the  little  valley,  gush 
out  from,  the  bases  of  tall  cliffs,  whose 
serrated  crests  stand  like  Titan  towers 
above  the  oaks  grouped  in  symmetri 
cal  clumps  on  the  bowlder-scattered 
escarpment  far  below;  and  these  bab 
bling  rills,  as  they  trickle  over  the 
smoothly  worn  pebbles  in  their  shal 
low  beds,  send  up  the  rhythmic  mur 
mur  of  their  sparkling  water,  in  sweet 
concert  with  the  ever-whispering  pines. 
Entwining  gnarled  old  cottonwoods, 
9 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

whose  gigantic  trunks  have  withstood 
the  wintry  blasts  of  centuries,  fantas 
tically  interlinking  the  pinon's  ever 
green  mazes,  clinging  tenderly  to  the 
sprays  of  the  mountain  willow,  or 
roughly  adhering  to  the  canon  walls 
themselves,  the  ampelopsis  and  the 
wild  grape  luxuriate  in  all  the  grace 
fulness  of  their  persistent  involve 
ment. 

From  the  velvety  sod  of  gramma- 
grass,  which  carpets  the  lovely  little 
valley's  slopes,  sweetly  scented  violets, 
blue  and  pink  anemones,  the  creamy- 
petaled  yucca,  and  a  dozen  varieties 
of  many-colored  cacti  in  the  splendor 
of  their  consecutive  unfolding,  mirror 
the  gorgeous  tints  of  the  peerless  mid- 
continent  sky. 

When    all    these,   the    floral    proems 


THE  LOG   CABIN. 

of  spring  and  summer,  have  ceased 
to  garland  the  lawn -like  intervales, 
"the  aster  in  the  woods,  the  sunflower 
by  the  brookside,  and  the  golden-rod, 
last  of  autumn's  blooming,"  paint  the 
landscape  as  in  rugged  New  England ; 
but  the  type  of  this  flora  is  more 
beautiful  in  the  mountains,  and  its 
season  greatly  prolonged. 

There,  in  an  unfrequented  fastness 
of  the  "  eternal  hills,"  surrounded  by 
Nature's  gorgeous  embodiment  of  her 
architecture,  lived,  solitary  and  se 
cluded,  more  than  a  generation  ago, 
Dick  Curtis  and  Clariss,  his  young 
wife  — 

"  The  world  forgetting,  by  the  world  forgot." 

It  was  years  before  a  transconti 
nental  railroad  was  believed  to  be  a 


A  PIONEER  FROM:  KENTUCKY, 

possibility,  and  all  the  commerce  of 
the  Great  Plains  was  by  that  broad 
path  through  the  Desert  and  over  the 
blue  hills  guarding  the  portals  of  ul 
tramontane  New  Mexico,  the  old  Santa 
Fe  trail,  now  a  mere  memory. 


12 


CHAPTER  II. 

7T)icfe  Curtis  tbe  Ibunter— 

Glartss* 

DICK  CURTIS  was  a  Kentuckian  — 
tall,  brawny,  broad-shouldered  and 
wiry,  true  characteristics  of  his  im 
mediate  ancestors ;  for  his  forefathers 
had  emigrated  from  Virginia  at  the 
period  of  the  great  exodus  in  1780 
into  the  region  of  Kan-tuck-kee  (the 
Bloody  Ground),  so  called  because  of 
the  sanguinary  opposition  of  the  abo 
rigines  to  its  invasion  by  the  whites. 

His  father  had  been  a  leader  of 
men  in  those  perilous  times  of  the 
border,  and  was  naturally  an  Indian 
13 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

fighter  and  hater  of  the  race,  as  was 
his  wife,  who  saw  her  husband  butch 
ered  at  the  threshold  of  her  cabin  by 
savages  1  So  Dick's  antipathy  to  the 
"cussed  breed,"  as  he  termed  the 
Indians,  had  been  imbibed  at  his 
mother's  breast,  and  was  the  direct 
result  of  antenatal  influences,  —  for 
he  was  not  yet  born  at  the  time  of 
the  tragedy  which  precluded  the  pos 
sibility  of  his  ever  knowing  his  sire. 
His  implacable  detestation  of  the  In 
dian,  therefore,  was  part  of  his  nature 
by  the  inexorable  law  of  heredity: 
he  did  not  try  to  eliminate  it,  nor 
would  he  have  succeeded  had  he  es 
sayed  to  do  so. 

Clariss  Pollock  was  one  of  those 
' '  sweet  woodland  beauties  ' '  who  may 
occasionally  be  discovered  in  such  bar- 


DICK  AND   CLARISS. 

barons  regions  as  the  Ozark  hills  of 
Missouri,  the  pine-barrens  of  Arkan 
sas,  or  the  mountains  of  the  Appa 
lachian  chain  south  of  the  Ohio. 

She  was  ignorant,  illiterate,  and  dia 
lectic  in  expression  of  thought,  it  is 
true,  the  normal  reflex  of  an  uncul 
tivated  and  provincial  environment; 
but  she  was  as  a  lily  among  weeds  — 
pure  as  the  breeze  that  soughed 
through  the  pines  surrounding  her 
childhood's  home.  She  possessed  a 
scrupulous  conscientiousness  and  in 
nocence  superior  to  that  which  the 
most  careful  culture  can  evolve,  and 
was  the  very  impersonation  of  grace 
—  a  veritable  exponent  of  what  capri 
cious  Nature  permits  sometimes  in  the 
incorporeal,  as  she  does  often  in  the 
corporeal  world. 

15 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

Dick  first  Baw  Clariss  at  her  rude 
mountain  hearthstone,  in  the  Cum 
berland  Range  which  marks  the  east 
ern  boundary  of  his  native  State,  one 
night  when  a  fearful  storm  had  over 
taken  him  near  her  father's  cabin, 
and  he  was  driven  by  its  violence  to 
seek  the  friendly  shelter.  He  was  at 
once  dazed  by  her  exceptional  beauty 
and  superbly  proportioned  figure,  as 
she  handed  him  a  gourdful  of  water 
she  had  just  dipped  from  a  spring 
near  the  door,  as  he  was  about  to 
enter.  Hers  was  a  type  of  beauty  as 
foreign  to  that  region,  and  to  which 
only  he  was  accustomed,  as  is  the 
graceful  palm  of  the  tropics. 

His  strangely  magnificent  physique, 
too,  captivated  the  imaginative  young 
girl  immediately;  for  she,  as  is  wo- 
16 


DICK  AND  CLAB28S. 

mankind  generally,  was  susceptible  to 
those  attractions  of  the  opposite  sex 
—  strong  arms,  broad  shoulders,  and 
manly  muscular  symmetry,  all  of 
which  Dick  could  claim  in  a  remark 
able  degree.  No  wonder,  then,  that 
the  sympathetic  Clariss  should  admire 
that  giant  among  a  race  of  giants,  as 
were  nearly  all  the  men  in  the  region 
where  she  was  reared. 

Dick  was  a  born  hunter;  he  inher 
ited  his  prowess  in  the  chase  from  a 
remote  ancestry,  the  line  having  come 
down  to  him  without  a  single  break 
through  seven  generations,  the  record 
of  which,  in  rude  legendary  form, 
was  current  in  the  neighborhood.  His 
whole  life  from  boyhood  had  been 
passed  in  the  forests  of  the  "bloody 
ground,"  and  the  most  familiar  bed 

-2  17 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

to  his  stalwart  form  was  the  lichen- 
covered  rocks  of  the  mountain  gorges, 
or  pine-needles  piled  up  under  stately 
trees.  In  fact,  until  Clariss  "  kirn 
'cross  his  trail,"  he  almost  lived  in 
the  woods,  rarely  coming  to  the  "  set 
tlement  "  except  to  barter  for  his 
pelts,  and  then  remaining  only  long 
enough  to  accomplish  his  errand. 

But  game  began  to  get  scarce  as 
immigration  encroached  upon  the  fer 
tile  valleys,  and  Dick  talked  seriously 
of  "pullin'  out"  for  some  new  place, 
"  no  matter  whar,  ef  thar  war  var 
mints  a  plenty."  So,  with  indiffer 
ent  luck  for  eighteen  months  after  he 
"fust  sot  eyes  on  Clariss,"  he  hunted 
the  range  near  her  home ;  but  his  wan 
derings,  after  that  vision  of  beauty, 
were  never  so  prolonged  as  previously. 
18 


DICK  AND   CLAEISS. 

Once  a  week  at  least,  oftener  twice, 
and  always  on  Sunday,  "he  war  boun' 
ter  fetch  up  at  old  Tom  Pollock's," 
Clariss's  father,  where,  in  the  rough 
but  hearty  manner  of  the  simple 
mountaineer,  he  was  warmly  welcomed, 
and  there  was  already  a  tacit  under 
standing  that  "he  war  ter  marry  the 

gyrl." 


CHAPTER  III. 


bears  of  tbe 
"fbunter's 


IT  was  at  Tom  Pollock's,  one  night, 
when  a  young  attorney  from  a  town 
in  the  valley  on  the  Tennessee  side  of 
the  divide,  who  had  been  on  a  fishing 
expedition  in  the  range,  was  lost,  sep 
arated  from  his  companions,  and,  be 
lated,  compelled  to  seek  shelter  in 
Pollock's  humble  cabin,  that  Dick 
Curtis  first  heard  of  such  a  region  as 
the  Rocky  Mountains. 

That  was  in  October,  1848,  after 
the  ratification  of  the  treaty  which 
transferred  New  Mexico  to  the  United 

20 


THE  "HUNTER'S  PARADISE." 

States,  and  the  supposed  wonderful 
country  we  had  just  acquired  was  the 
principal  topic  of  discussion  wherever 
newspapers  were  read.  The  latter  es 
sential,  however,  precluded  the  possi 
bility  of  the  fact  ever  reaching  the 
knowledge  of  the  inmates  of  Tom 
Pollock's  cabin  through  such  a  me 
dium;  but  the  subject  was  introduced 
there  by  the  lawyer  that  evening,  in  a 
conversation  naturally  provoked,  when 
Dick  complained  in  a  mild  way  of 
the  "  scursity  of  game  in  them  parts," 
in  answer  to  a  little  chaffing  about 
his  returning  from  the  woods  without 
having  bagged  anything,  after  having 
been  gone  three  days. 

"Why  don't  you  cross  the  Plains, 
and  take  up  a  *  squatter's  claim '  in 
the  Rocky  Mountains  —  say  New  Mex- 

21 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ico  ?  There  's  plenty  of  game  there ; 
large  game,  too  —  bears,  wolves,  deer, 
elk,  and  panthers;  and  no  one  to  kill 
them  except  a  few  miserable  Indians," 
suggested  the  attorney  to  Dick. 

The  latter,  who  was  tilted  back 
against  the  huge  stone  chimney,  in  a 
dilapidated  rush-bottomed  chair,  pull 
ing  vigorously  at  an  old  corncob,  half 
hidden  in  the  dense  cloud  of  smoke 
his  big  lungs  had  pumped  out  of  the 
strong  home-grown  weed,  straightened 
up,  and  laying  his  pipe  on  the  hearth, 
looked  intently  at  his  questioner,  and 
drawlingly  said: 

"Waal,  I'll  be  dad-burned  I  An' 
nothin'  but  pesky  In j ins  thar  ter  kill 
'em?" 

The  young  man,  noticing  how  his 
simple  suggestion  had  affected  the 

22 


THE  "HUNTER'S  PARADISE." 

lethargic  mountaineer,  then  continued 
to  expatiate  with  a  sort  of  desultory 
eloquence  upon  the  advantage  of  such 
"a  hunter's  paradise,"  as  he  termed 
it,  and  painted  a  word-picture  so  real 
istic  that  the  now  thoroughly  aroused 
Dick,  emerging  from  his  shell  of  nor 
mal  reticence,  anxiously  inquired  in. 
his  peculiar  intonation : 

"Whar  is  them  thar  Rocky  Mount 
ings,  Mister?  Kin  folkses  git  thar  on 
beastes?" 

Then  waiting  a  moment  to  recover 
from  surprise  at  his  own  volubility, 
he  continued : 

"I'll  be  dad-burned,  Tom  Pollock, 
ef  thar  ain't  whar  I  means  ter  go  I 
Ther  settlemints  hyar  is  a-gettin'  too 
dost;  folkses  is  a-drivin'  all  ther  var 
mints  outen  ther  kentry;  an'  we-uns 
23 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ez  hain't  no  other  layout  fer  ter  live 
liez  got  ter  git,  I  'low,  an'  ther  sud- 
dinter  ther  better  fer  sich. —  Kin  yer 
tell  we-uns,  Mister,  how  ter  git  yan- 
der?" 

Waiting  until  Dick  had  subsided 
and  was  pulling  at  his  cob  again,  an 
evidence  that  he  had  exhausted  his 
colloquial  powers  for  the  time  being, 
the  obliging  attorney  then  gave  him 
a  long  explanation,  fully  answering 
all  his  interrogatories,  specific  and  in 
ferred,  which  was  listened  to  atten 
tively  and  thoughtfully  absorbed. 

Soon  after  Dick  had  received  the 
desired  enlightenment,  all  but  he  and 
Clariss  retired, —  the  lawyer  on  a  pal 
let  which  had  been  improvised  by  Mrs. 
Pollock,  principally  out  of  bearskins, 
behind  some  common  homespun  dra- 
24 


THE  "HUNTER'S  PARADISE." 

pery  at  one  side,  where  also,  in  two 
other  places,  the  same  appliance  di 
vided  the  single  room  of  the  cabin 
into  compartments  approaching  some 
thing  of  privacy  at  least. 

Clariss  then,  who  had  been  all  the 
evening  hidden  in  the  shadow  of  one 
of  the  obscure  corners,  quietly  knit 
ting,  without  taking  any  part  in  the 
conversation,  but  an  earnest  and  in 
terested  listener,  came  and  sat  before 
the  huge  fireplace  with  Dick,  as  was 
her  wont  on  the  occasion  of  his  visits 
when  the  old  folks  had  gone  to  bed. 

For  some  time  Dick  gazed  medita 
tively  into  the  glowing  embers ;  the 
girl  close  to  him,  one  hand  clasped 
in  his,  and  her  great  lustrous  blue 
eyes,  full  of  perfect  faith  in  the  giant 
beside  her,  resting  their  penetrating 
25 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

look  on  his  now  thoughtful  face.  For 
more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  they 
thus  silently  sat,  he  deeply  absorbed 
in  the  air-castles  his  mind  was  con 
structing  from  the  material  infused 
by  the  attorney  and  in  him. 

Suddenly  Dick  turned  toward  Cla- 
riss,  and  taking  her  other  diminutive 
hand  in  his  immense  paws,  he  drew 
her  gently  forward  and  said: 

"  Little  gyrl,  will  yer  go  to  them 
thar  Rocky  Mountings  'long  o'  me,  ef 
I'd  wait  tell  spring  ?  Thar 's  no  use 
ter  talk  'bout  ch'ice  fer  me  now;  I 
must  git  outen  hyar  'fore  long,  and 
atwixt  we-uns,  that  thar  descripti'n 
o'  his'n  [pointing  toward  where  the 
lawyer  was  snoring]  hez  took  my  idee 
ter-nite ;  but  seems  like  ez  ef  I  'd  be 
no  'count  now,  nowhar,  'thout  yer 
26 


THE  "HUNTER'S  PARADISE." 

wuz  with  me.  I  wants  yer  ter  gin  me 
yer  feeliii's  on  ther  matter  jess  ez  yer 
b'l'eve  ye'd  orter,  —  yet  it's  tol'ble 
suddint  ter  ax  yer,  I  'low." 

He  stroked  her  golden  curls  as  if 
she  were  some  pet  animal,  and  then 
held  her  at  arm's -length,  watching 
her  face  as  the  light  of  the  dying  fire 
faintly  illuminated  it,  while  he  eager 
ly  waited  for  her  answer. 

"  Ef  yer  'low  as  'twas  what  yer'd 
oughter  do,  ter  git  outen  hyar  an'  go 
yander  ter  them  thar  Rocky  Mount 
ings,  Dick,  I  'd  go  anywhar  yer  wuz 
called  ter  go,  yer  know.  Ef  yer  went 
'thout  a-takin'  me  I  'd  be  powerful 
onhappy;  an'  ez  things  is  atwixt  we- 
uns,  an'  ther  hull  settlemint  knows 
it,  it  war  bes'  yer  tuk  me  'long.  No 
matter  whar  we-uns  went,  ef  yer  hev 
27 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

got  ter  git,  it  can't  be  no  wuss  nor 
hyar  in  these  hyar  mountings.  Pap 
he  'lowed  ter  mam  'tother  day  ye  'd 
be  a-takin'  on  me  off  somewhar  soon. 
He  know'd  yer  war  boun'  ter  lite  out, 
he  said,  whar  game  war  plenty.  Mam 
she  kind  o'  tuk  on  et  fust,  an'  tol' 
him  she  'd  bin  a-thinkin'  an'  a-porin' 
over  that  ever  sence  we-uns  hed  tuk 
tor  one  'nuther.  I  'd  hate  mos'  pow 
erful  ter  leave  'em,  Dick,  fer  they 
hev  sot  a  store  by  me,  an'  they 's 
a-gettin'  old,  yer  know  ;  but  ther 
Scriptur'  say  thet  a  womin  kin  leave 
her  folkses  an'  cling  ter  her  man.  I 
mus'  f oiler  yer,  Dick,  an'  they  knows 
it.  Yes,  I  '11  go  thar  with  yer  ez  soon 
ez  spring  comes  an'  we-uns  is  —  jined, 
yer  know." 

Neither    of    these    children    of    the 
28 


THE  "HUNTER'S  PARADISE." 

mountains  was  ever  demonstrative. 
They  knew  the  fixity  of  their  affec 
tion  for  each  other,  unexcitable  as  it 
may  appear  to  those  whose  lives  have 
been  surrounded  by  a  widely  different 
civilization.  But  they  were  as  happy 
in  their  love,  ready  to  suffer  if  need 
be,  contented  with  its  measure,  for  it 
was  as  pure  as  the  crystal  waters  that 
flowed  from  the  springs  at  the  bases 
of  their  native  hills,  and  as  enduring 
as  the  rocks  that  formed  them. 

Dick  and  Clariss,  after  this  mutual 
understanding  of  a  subject  which  was 
to  change  the  current  of  their  exist 
ence,  retired  to  their  sleeping-places, 
he  to  dream  of  fearful  struggles  with 
impossible  "varmints,"  and  she  of 
her  promise  that  night  to  him. 


29 


CHAPTER  IV. 


to  "Utafntucfc." 


MAY,  with  its  wealth  of  flowers  and 
days  resonant  with  the  songs  of  birds, 
carne  to  the  beautiful  region  where 
Tom  Pollock's  rude  cabin  was  the 
only  deformity  in  all  the  landscape. 
Many  pitied  little  Clariss  when,  on  a 
golden  afternoon  about  the  middle 
of  that  month,  she  and  Dick  were 
"jined"  by  the  "circuit  rider"  in 
the  large  room  where  on  a  memora 
ble  evening  of  the  previous  October 
she  had  pledged  her  young  life  to 
her  hunter-lover's  keeping.  The  fair- 
30 


GOOD-BY  TO  "KAINTUCK." 

haired  girl  had  been  the  pet  and  pride 
of  the  "  settlemint,"  and  the  neigh 
bors  flocked  to  the  simple  rustic  wed 
ding,  mourned  her  leaving,  and  pitied 
her  because  she  seemed  to  be  going 
to  another  world. 

They  had  no  more  idea  of  the  geog 
raphy  of  the  continent,  outside  of  a 
few  miles  on  both  flanks  of  the  range, 
than  they  had  of  the  interior  of  Af 
rica. 

"  Them  thar  Rocky  Mountings " 
might  as  well  have  been  part  of  the 
moon's  topography,  so  distant  were 
they  in  the  minds  of  the  ignorant 
residents  on  the  border  of  Kentucky 
and  Tennessee  in  those  early  days, 
and  they  knew  as  much  about  a  rail 
road  as  they  did  of  the  tariff. 

"  Ef  she  war  fool  'miff  ter  marry 
31 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

an'  go  'way  out  thar,  it  war  none  o' 
their  consarn ;  but  they  did  think  her 
folkses  mus'  be  extracted  ter  gin  the'r 
consent.  'Course  she  hed  a  right  ter 
her  ch'ice  o'  men,  but  they  'd  be  dad- 
burned  ef  they  'd  go  ter  sech  a  heath- 
inish  place  fer  no  man!" 

With  such  and  kindred  opinions 
expressed  about  the  marriage,  though 
never  uttered  in  her  hearing,  Clariss 
left  the  rude  home  of  her  childhood 
to  "  tuk  her  chances  with  Dick." 

After  a  tedious  and  uneventful  jour 
ney  across  the  Plains,  the  incidents 
of  which  do  not  properly  belong  to 
this  story,  they  arrived  at  "them 
thar  Rocky  Mountings"  in  August, 
early  in  the  month,  selected  their 
home  at  the  mouth  of  the  great 
canon,  and  built  the  rude  cabin  al- 
32 


OOOD-BY  TO  "KAINTUCK." 

ready  described,   after   many   days   of 
labor  and  severe  trials  of  patience. 

Dick,  perfectly  contented  with  his 
new  home  in  the  wilderness,  hunted 
constantly  in  its  immediate  vicinity, 
for  he  loved  his  profession;  and  he 
did  not  have  to  walk  whole  days  with 
out  success,  as  he  had  been  obliged  to 
do  back  in  Kentucky,  to  keep  the  lar 
der  supplied,  and  barter  for  the  lim 
ited  number  of  necessaries  his  vocation 
demanded.  The  foothills  abounded  in 
black-tail  deer,  the  best  venison  in 
the  world;  silver-tip,  cinnamon  and 
grizzly  bear;  otter,  beaver,  lynx,  pan 
ther,  and  the  "big  horn"*;  while  on 
the  plains  below,  vast  herds  of  buf 
falo,  elk  and  antelope  roamed  almost 
as  countless  as  the  pine-needles  in  the 

*  Rocky  Mountain  sheep. 
-3  33 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

forest  on  the  mountain-side.  He  was 
supremely  happy  with  the  companion 
ship  of  his  young  wife  and  the  con 
genial  atmosphere  of  his  surroundings ; 
for  it  was  a  veritable  hunter's  para 
dise,  as  the  attorney  who  had  first 
suggested  his  coming  there  declared. 


34 


CHAPTER  V. 

Qlarfss,  tbe 

"<3olfcen  jfawn/' 

THE  Utes,  the  most  powerful  and 
numerous  of  all  the  mountain  tribes, 
from  the  moment  of  Dick's  and  Cla- 
riss's  advent  into  their  domain,  were 
exceedingly  friendly;  but  it  was  due 
solely  to  the  gentle  methods  of  the 
warm-hearted,  sympathetic  girl  in  her 
treatment  of  the  savages.  They  often 
camped  in  large  numbers  for  weeks 
together  on  the  creek  bottom,  or  in 
the  heavy  timber  that  fringed  the 
stream  near  the  cabin. 

On  these  occasions  the  squaws  al- 
35 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ways  evinced  a  decided  attachment  to 
the  "Golden  Fawn,"  as  they  called 
Clariss,  who  presided  over  the  for 
tunes  of  the  wooden  lodge  of  the 
white  hunter.  They  would  frequently 
present  her  with  a  handsomely  bead 
ed  pair  of  moccasins,  or  a  heavily 
fringed  and  porcupined  buckskin  skirt 
made  out  of  the  softest  doe's-hide, 
the  work  of  their  own  deft  fingers; 
while  she  in  turn  made  them  small 
gifts  of  coffee,  sugar  and  flour  as  her 
limited  stock  of  these  articles,  so  dif 
ficult  to  obtain,  permitted,  or  initi 
ated  them  into  the  mysteries  of  her 
kitchen. 

She  was  as   yet  very  happy  in  her 
simple   home.      She   made  a  study  of 
the   Indian   character,  soon   familiar 
ized    herself    with    their    speech,    and 
36 


THE  "GOLDEN  FAWN." 

became  an  expert  in  the  strange  and 
fascinating  sign -language,  so  perfect 
in  its  symbolization.  Had  she  pos 
sessed  the  power  of  imparting  her  won 
derful  knowledge  by  correctly  tran 
scribing  it,  she  could  have  presented 
a  more  definite  and  plausible  argu 
ment  in  relation  to  the  vexed  Indian 
question  than  Congress  has  in  all  the 
years  devoted  to  the  subject. 

Absolutely  unused  to  the  culture 
and  refinement  of  our  so-called  higher 
civilization,  but  inheriting  that  love 
of  solitude  characteristic  of  the  class 
from,  which  she  sprung,  her  utter  is 
olation  from  ' '  the  madding  crowd  ' ' 
had  no  other  effect  than  to  intensely 
develop  her  natural  love  for  the  prim 
itive  in  creation;  so  the  magnificent 
scenery,  the  roar  of  the  torrent,  and 
37 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

the  wilderness  of  floral  beauty  sur 
rounding  her  home,  wrought  a  condi 
tion  of  contentment  it  is  impossible 
for  the  pampered  children  of  luxury 
to  understand. 

So  little  of  his  time  did  it  require 
to  procure  skins  of  the  valuable  fur- 
bearing  animals  in  sufficient  number 
to  supply  the  necessaries  for  their 
primitive  style  of  living,  Dick  found 
an  abundance  of  leisure;  so  every 
year,  in  accordance  with  Clariss's 
wise  suggestion  when  they  first  took 
up  their  abode  in  the  mountains,  he 
cultivated  a  small  garden  patch  in 
the  fertile  creek  bottom,  where  he 
raised  a  variety  of  vegetables,  that 
grew  with  an  almost  tropical  luxuri 
ance,  so  richly  did  the  virgin  soil  re 
spond  to  the  demands  made  upon  it. 
38 


CHAPTER  VI. 

first  Sbafcow 

upon  tbe  Cabin  Ifoome 


LATE  one  fall  —  November,  1853,  as 
the  legend  hath  it  —  when  the  harvest 
of  the  little  garden  had  been  gath 
ered,  and  stored  by  "caching"  in  a 
'  '  dugout  '  '  in  the  hillside  back  of  the 
cabin,  Dick,  for  the  first  time  since 
his  settlement  there,  began  to  develop 
a  spirit  of  restlessness,  which  the  keen 
eyes  of  his  wife  quickly  discovering, 
disturbed  her  seriously.  It  first  man 
ifested  itself  in  more  prolonged  ab 
sences  from  home  ;  instead  of  hunting 
among  the  hills  for  only  two  or  three 
39 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

hours  at  a  time,  he  now  remained 
away  the  whole  day,  and  when  he 
did  return  at  night  was  always  in  a 
gloomy  mood,  and  more  reticent  than 
ever. 

He  had  now  determined  upon  an 
extended  trip  into  the  region  of  the 
Sangre  de  Christo  Pass  and  Spanish 
Peaks,  far  away  to  the  north,  which 
resolution  he  reluctantly  disclosed  to 
Clariss  one  evening  a  short  time  after 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  go,  as 
they  sat  before  the  fire  discussing  a 
very  successful  day's  work,  which  had 
somewhat  raised  his  spirits;  for  he 
had  killed  in  less  than  half  a  day 
four  black-tailed  deer  and  two  brown 
bears,  besides  finding  that  all  his 
beaver  traps  had  caught  a  victim. 
Clariss,  to  whom  Dick's  slightest 
40 


TUE  FIRST  SHADOW. 

word  was  law,  BO  deep  was  her  affec 
tion  and  such  her  confidence  in  his 
wisdom,  merely  permitted  one  little 
sigh  to  escape  as  she  learned  of  his 
proposed  absence,  the  first  since  their 
marriage.  She  knew  no  fear;  it  was 
not  any  dread  of  being  left  alone,  in 
the  rigid  acceptation  of  the  term, 
that  worried  her.  She  had  frequently 
passed  whole  weeks  at  her  father's 
cabin  in  the  Cumberland  Range  with 
no  companion  but  her  cat:  it  was 
Dick's  presence  that  she  required  con 
stantly,  now  that  he  belonged  to  her, 
or  the  sun  would  not  shine  so  bright 
ly  and  the  flowers  would  lose  their 
sweetness.  Of  that  terror  which  soli 
tude  brings  to  some  natures,  Clariss 
was  as  ignorant  as  she  was  of  the 
calculus. 

41 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

"Waal,"  said  she  to  Dick,  after  he 
had  made  her  believe  that  it  was  nec 
essary  that  he  should  go,  and  they 
were  discussing  the  impending  jour 
ney — "waal,  ef  yer  hez  got  ter  go, 
ez  long  ez  I  hev  got  Tige  an'  Buck  I 
shan  't  hcv  no  call  ter  be  afeard  o' 
nothin';  them  dorgs  kin  tuk  car'  o' 
me.  Ther  In j ins  won't  be  a-ram- 
pagin'  'round,  an'  thar  hain't  nothin' 
but  varmints  else,  which  them  thar 
dorgs  kin  manage." 

"Them  thar  dorgs,"  to  which  Cla- 
riss  referred  so  confidently,  were  two 
magnificent  specimens  of  their  spe 
cies, —  great  grizzled  animals,  half 
blood-  and  half  stag-hounds,  with  all 
the  ferocity  and  endurance  of  both 
breeds  combined.  Either  could  van 
quish  a  gray  wolf  in  single  combat, 
42 


THE  FIRST  SHADOW. 

and  together  they  were  a  match  for 
a  mountain  lion,  as  the  American 
cougar  is  called  in  the  West.  Neither 
* '  Buck ' '  nor  ' '  Tige  ' '  possessed  much 
of  that  affection  generally  found  in 
the  domestic  dog  family;  that  is  to 
say,  they  had  no  love  for  anyone  — 
red,  black,  or  white  —  other  than  Dick 
and  Clariss,  so  carefully  had  they 
been  trained.  At  a  word  from  either 
master  or  mistress  they  would  have 
torn  a  man  in  pieces,  or  attacked  the 
most  ferocious  beast  in  the  whole 
Range;  they  were  equally  obedient  in 
the  heat  of  their  greatest  rage,  and 
would  desist  when  ordered,  though  at 
the  throat  of  a  grizzly  that  was  do 
ing  its  best  to  disembowel  them  at 
the  moment.  They  never  intruded 
themselves  at  inopportune  times.  A 
43 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

stranger  might  have  remained  at  the 
cabin  for  days  without  fear  of  at 
tack,  (although  his  every  movement 
would  have  been  watched,)  unless  he 
committed  some  overt  act. 

As  stated,  for  some  time  Dick  had 
been  more  than  usually  restless  and 
surly,  but  never  disrespectful  to  Cla- 
riss;  and  the  strange  mood  mani 
fested  itself  more  positively  whenever 
it  happened  that  the  friendly  Utes 
took  up  their  camp  in  the  timber,  or 
on  the  grassy  bottom  near  his  cabin. 
Now,  he  never  went  near  them  as  he 
used  to  in  days  gone  by,  and  if  on 
coming  home  after  a  hunt  he  saw 
that  Clariss  was  entertaining  a  party 
of  her  dusky  friends  (he  could  always 
tell  by  their  ponies  picketed  around 
the  door),  he  would  invariably  turn 

44 


THE  FIRST  SHADOW. 

back,  walk  up  the  canon  where  he 
could  watch  without  being  seen,  and 
Bitting  on  some  bowlder  would  smoke 
his  pipe  vigorously,  apparently  deeply 
absorbed  in  his  thoughts,  often  for 
hours,  until  the  squaws  had  departed. 
The  subject  of  the  Indian  women's 
visits,  although  Clariss  saw  that  their 
presence  had  a  visible  effect  on  Dick's 
actions,  was  not  broached  by  either 
in  their  short  nightly  conversations 
at  the  cheerful  fire  in  their  humble 
home.  She  was  well  aware  of  his  in 
herent  hatred  of  the  race,  but  said 
nothing;  while  he  felt  that  in  her 
solitariness  the  companionship  of  her 
own  sex,  though  they  were  of  the  ac 
cursed  breed,  was  a  comfort  to  her, 
and  in  his  rough  but  strong  love  for 
her  he  would  not  interrupt. 
45 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

The  cause  of  the  change  in  Dick's 
conduct,  which  he  very  foolishly  kept 
a  profound  secret  from  his  confiding 
young  wife,  and  which  eventually 
overburdened  him  with  sorrow,  was 
this : 

One  morning,  some  weeks  previous 
to  his  having  told  Clariss  of  his  pro 
posed  extended  hunting -trip  north, 
while  on  a  tour  of  inspection  to  his 
beaver  and  other  traps  scattered  along 
the  river  for  several  miles,  he  had 
some  trouble  with  an  Indian,  who 
had  really,  or  Dick  imagined  it,  been 
meddling  with  his  skins,  as  some  of 
them  were  missing,  and  without  very 
much  altercation  the  hot-headed  fel 
low  killed  him,  not  giving  him  the 
least  chance  for  his  life.  Dick  felt 
a  momentary  qualm  of  self-reproach 
46 


THE  FIRST  SHADOW. 

immediately,  for  upon  looking  around 
after  the  consummation  of  the  deed, 
he  saw  a  few  rods  distant  in  the  tim 
ber  a  squaw  with  a  child  strapped  to 
her  back,  who  had  evidently  been  a 
witness  of  the  hellish  act.  She  was 
half-sitting,  half-reclining  at  the  foot 
of  a  great  pine,  tearing  her  hair  and 
chanting  the  death-song  of  her  tribe. 
Dick  now  knew  that  he  had  killed 
her  husband  and  the  father  of  her 
innocent  babe. 

He  at  once  thought  of  Clariss. 
What  would  his  young  wife,  so  kind- 
hearted  and  charitable  to  the  op 
pressed  race,  say  if  she  knew  of  this 
ruthless  murder  ?  The  squaw,  per 
haps,  was  one  of  her  chosen  compan 
ions. 

For  a  few  moments  these  thoughts 
47 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

chased  each  other  through  his  brain; 
his  anguish  was  something  terrible, 
and  he  wished  he  could  recall  his 
rash  act.  But  his  compunctions  soon 
subsided,  for  upon  looking  again  to 
where  the  woman  was,  he  saw  her 
standing,  gazing  intently  at  him  and 
making  some  motions  with  her  fin 
gers  which  he  did  not  understand. 
Then,  as  she  commenced  to  walk 
slowly  away  from  him  through  the 
somber  forest,  vengeance  unmistaka 
bly  depicted  in  every  line  of  her 
face,  he  felt  all  the  inherent  animos 
ity  of  his  nature  come  convulsively 
to  his  mind,  and  he  chuckled  in 
wardly  that  he  had  put  another  of 
the  "dad-burned,  no -'count  cusses 
outen  his  way." 

This  murderer  in  the  solitude  of  the 
48 


THE  FIRST  SHADOW. 

Range  did  not,  like  Eugene  Aram, 
make  any  attempt  to  conceal  the  ob 
ject  of  his  unwarranted  vengeance; 
the  "code  of  the  border"  implied  no 
Buch  precaution  among  its  rules :  so 
the  now  hardened  Dick  left  the  bones 
of  his  victim  to  be  picked  by  the 
gray  wolves,  those  ghouls  of  the 
mountains,  and  to  bleach  in  the 
wintry  BUB. 


49 


CHAPTER  VII. 

0ff  tor  tbe  Spanisb 


As  SOON  as  breakfast  was  disposed 
of,  one  morning  a  few  days  after 
Dick  had  told  Clariss  he  was  going 
away,  he  gathered  and  assorted  his 
accumulation  of  furs,  packed  them 
on  three  burros,  and  started  on  horse 
back  over  the  trail  for  the  old  Mexi 
can  village  of  Ryado.  He  had  always 
found  a  quick  market  there  at  the 
Agency  store,  and  had  never  traded 
elsewhere  since  his  settlement  in  the 
Territory;  but  he  had  not  as  yet  vis 
ited  the  place  in  person,  so  loth  had 
50 


OFF  FOR   THE  SPANISH  PEAKS. 

he  been  to  leave  C*lariss  even  for  one 
night.  He  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
transacting  all  his  business  through 
the  conductors  of  the  Overland  Line 
of  coaches,  who  for  a  small  commis 
sion  received  his  skins  at  the  station 
on  Ute  creek,  transported  them  to 
Kyado,  sold  them,  and  brought  back 
on  the  return  trip  such  things  as 
were  needed,  and  the  balance  in  cash. 
By  this  method  Dick  could  go  to  the 
station  and  reach  home  again  before 
night  —  a  consideration  that  was  lov 
ingly  appreciated  by  Clariss. 

The  trip  to  the  village  occupied 
four  days  of  Dick's  time,  but  to  Cla 
riss  it  seemed  an  age,  for  it  was  his 
first  absence  overnight  since  the  day 
they  were  married.  He  arrived  home 
about  sundown,  his  animals  laden 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

with  an  ample  supply  of  flour,  bacon, 
Bugar,  coffee,  and  other  things  neces 
sary  to  Clariss's  comfort,  sufficient 
to  last  six  or  eight  weeks,  the  pro 
posed  duration  of  his  hunting  expedi 
tion  to  the  Spanish  Peaks. 

The  morning  after  his  return  Dick 
again  discussed  the  question  with 
Clariss  of  his  going  away,  and  while 
he  made  his  preparations  comforted 
her  as  well  as  his  rough  nature  per 
mitted,  for  he  was  really  grieved  to 
leave  her.  After  dinner  was  over  he 
gave  her  minute  directions  what  to 
do  during  his  absence,  and  when  ev 
erything  was  ready  took  an  affec 
tionate  farewell,  struck  out  for  the 
well-worn  trail  through  the  canon 
and  along  the  brink  of  the  mesa 
above  it.  He  was  mounted  on  his 
52 


OFF  FOE   THE  SPANISH  PEAKS. 

favorite  American  horse  which  he  had 
brought  from  Kentucky,  and  named 
for  his  native  State,  driving  before 
him  two  burros  on  whose  backs  were 
packed  his  simple  camp  equipage  and 
provisions,  while  following  were  his 
two  inseparable  hunting  companions, 
thoroughbred  deer  -  hounds ,  * '  Bruce  ' ' 
and  "Pont."  Resting  across  the  horn 
of  his  saddle,  a  silver-mounted  affair, 
was  an  old-fashioned  rifle,  but  as  true 
as  a  problem  in  Euclid,  an  heirloom 
through  three  generations,  which,  next 
to  his  young  wife,  he  loved  better 
than  all  his  other  possessions,  for  it 
had  never  yet  played  him  false  when 
he  pulled  the  trigger. 

Clariss,  her  soul  filled  with  sorrow, 
sat  on  a  projecting  ledge  of  rock  near 
the   door  of   her   cabin,  watching  her 
53 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

husband  as  his  horse  struggled  up 
the  zigzag  that  marked  the  precipi 
tous  trail  of  the  mountain's  side;  re 
maining  there  until  long  after  he  had 
disappeared,  and  the  shadows  fell  in 
the  little  valley,  and  the  mottled 
owls  in  the  tops  of  the  blasted  pines 
commenced  their  melancholy  screech. 
Then,  when  night  covered  the  canon, 
and  only  the  faintest  tinge  of  purple 
marked  the  line  of  the  serrated  hill- 
crests,  she  sadly  entered  her  now  des 
olate  hut,  nearly  heart-broken. 


54 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Discovery. 


JUST  before  daylight  one  clear  cold 
morning  in  the  middle  of  December, 
nearly  a  month  after  Dick'  B  depart 
ure,  as  the  Btory  was  told  me  many 
years  ago  by  an  old  settler  in  that 
part  of  the  Territory,  (  he  is  long 
since  dead,)  Clariss  was  suddenly 
aroused  from  her  warm  bed  of  buffalo 
robes  by  an  awful,  crashing  noise, 
accompanied  by  the  deep-mouthed 
baying  of  the  two  hounds  Dick  had 
left  behind  to  protect  her.  She  al 
ways  kept  them  in  the  cabin  at  night 
with  her,  where  they  slept  in  a  cor- 
55 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ner  on  a  pile  of  "rejected"  furs,  and 
she  supposed,  as  she  was  so  abruptly 
awakened,  that  they  were  still  inside, 
disturbed  only  by  some  prowling  bear 
or  wolf  they  had  scented,  until  the 
shattering  noise  caused  her  to  sit  up 
and  attempt  to  discover  the  reason  of 
the  terrible  clatter.  In  a  few  mo 
ments,  as  she  strainingly  peered  into 
the  dim  gray  light  of  the  rapidly  ap 
proaching  day,  a  wild,  shrill,  heart- 
piercing  cry  greeted  her  ears  that 
almost  stagnated  the  blood  in  her 
veins;  and  it  appeared  to  come  from 
the  depth  of  the  timber  on  the  creek. 
For  a  second  or  two  she  was  para 
lyzed,  and  could  not  stir  a  finger. 
But  she,  who  had  ever  been  a  stranger 
to  the  sensation  of  fear,  shook  off  by 
a  determined  effort  of  her  will  the 
56 


A   GHASTLY  DISCOVERY. 

queer  feeling  that  had  momentarily 
overpowered  her,  got  out  of  bed,  and 
lighted  the  solitary  candle  her  home 
afforded,  to  investigate  the  source  of 
her  alarm.  Much  to  her  surprise, 
neither  of  the  dogs  was  to  be  seen. 
Looking  cautiously  around,  Clariss 
discovered  that  the  window  at  the 
north  end  of  the  room,  near  where 
they  were  in  the  habit  of  lying,  was 
completely  torn  out,  glass,  sash,  and 
all. 

She  at  once  saw  that  this  was  the 
dogs'  work  in  their  frantic  efforts  to 
get  outside,  where  she  felt  certain 
something  extraordinary  must  have 
happened  to  so  excite  them.  She  had 
now  completely  recovered  her  normal 
self-possession;  so  she  put  on  her 
buckskin  suit  as  quickly  as  possible, 
57 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

and  taking  a  loaded  rifle  from  the 
elk  antlers  over  the  huge  fireplace  in 
the  corner,  she  opened  the  door  and 
went  out  of  the  cabin. 

The  air,  cool  and  crisp  from  the 
snow-covered  mountains,  fanned  her 
heated  cheeks  as  she  quietly  stood 
there  for  a  moment,  waiting  for  some 
sound  to  reach  her  ears,  but  nothing 
disturbed  the  matchless  stillness  save 
the  gurgling  of  the  rills  over  their 
pebbly  beds ;  and  were  it  not  for  the 
broken  window  and  the  disappearance 
of  the  dogs,  she  fancied  all  might 
have  been  only  a  wild  dream,  so  calm 
seemed  her  surroundings  as  she  con 
templated  the  scene. 

But  the  dogs,  where  were  they  ?  As 
the  thought  of  their  absence  came  to 
her  mind,  she  advanced  cautiously  in 
58 


A   GHASTLY  DISCO VER T. 

the  direction  of  the  timber,  encour 
agingly  calling  each  hound  by  his 
name  as  she  moved  slowly  forward. 

Suddenly,  "Tige,"  the  larger  of  the 
two,  came  bounding  out  of  the  under 
brush,  closely  followed  by  "Buck"; 
then  she  began  to  feel  reassured  as 
they  hurried  toward  her,  responsive 
to  her  summons.  As  "  Tige "  ap 
proached  her,  she  noticed  in  the  dim, 
uncertain  light  —  for  it  was  not  yet 
day  in  the  forest  —  that  he  was  heav 
ily  freighted ;  there  was  some  dark 
object  in  his  ponderous  jaws  which 
made  him  stagger.  At  first  sight  she 
thought  it  was  a  cub,  or  a  lynx;  but, 
horror! — in  a  moment  the  dog  laid 
at  her  feet  the  nude  body  of  an  In 
dian  child,  eight  or  ten  months  old! 

Clariss  nearly  fainted  as  she  real- 
59 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ized  the  nature  of  the  dog's  burden, 
and  caught  hold  of  a  tree  to  support 
herself  as  the  shock  passed  through 
her.  Most  women  would  have  incon 
tinently  fled  from  the  spot  and  locked 
themselves  up  to  drive  the  dreadful 
experience  from  their  thought;  not 
so,  however,  was  it  with  this  physic 
ally  fragile  daughter  of  the  mount 
ains.  Her  young  life  had  been  one 
continuous  familiarity  with  scenes  of 
trouble,  danger,  and  the  weird  in  na 
ture,  so  she  was  not  in  the  least  dis 
comfited  after  the  initiatory  shock; 
the  timidity  inherent  in  her  sex  was 
immediately,  by  strong  will-power, 
completely  eliminated  from  her  be 
ing,  and  she  promptly  acted  as  the 
strange  circumstances  facing  her  in 
her  solitariness  demanded;  and  she 
60 


A   GHASTLY  DISCOVERT. 

did  it  in  obedience  to  that  womanly 
love  and  tenderness  she  was  so  abun 
dantly  possessed  of. 

Of  course  her  first  impulse,  after 
recovering  from  her  agitation,  was  to 
learn  whether  the  babe  still  lived. 
She  pitifully  knelt  down,  placed  her 
hand  on  the  little  breast  over  the 
spot  where  its  heart  was  located,  but 
felt  no  responsive  beat;  its  flesh  was 
cold,  its  limbs  already  rigid  —  the 
child  was  dead  I 

A  pang  of  instinctive  maternal  sor 
row  thrilled  her  as  she  took  the  di 
minutive  corpse  in  her  arms  to  more 
closely  examine  it.  She  was  surprised 
to  see  how  emaciated  its  whole  body 
was,  how  shriveled  the  little  limbs, 
and  how  plainly  the  want  of  nourish 
ment  was  depicted  in  its  wan  face, 

61 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

and  she  knew  the  child  had  suffered 
for  want  of  food.  There  were  the 
marks  of  the  hound's  terrible  teeth 
where  he  had  taken  hold  to  carry  it, 
but  otherwise  there  was  no  laceration 
of  the  body;  and  considering  all  these 
facts,  Clariss's  face  brightened  at  the 
thought  that  the  dog  had  not  killed 
the  child  after  all,  but  had  found  it 
with  life  already  extinct  and  thus 
brought  it  to  her. 

She  took  up  her  burden  of  death 
tenderly  in  her  arms  and  carried  it 
to  a  little  "oak-opening"  north  of 
the  cabin,  not  far  from  one  of  the 
windows,  where  a  clump  of  the  tall 
scarlet  cacti  grew  luxuriantly,  whose 
wealth  of  bloom  in  its  season  was  "a 
thing  of  joy"  to  her.  There  gently 
placing  the  dead  baby  on  the  brown 
62 


A   GHASTLY  DISCOVEBY. 

sod  for  a  moment,  she  went  into  the 
house  for  a  blanket  to  wrap  it  in, 
and  a  spade.  Quickly  returning,  she 
dug  a  grave  for  the  little  Indian, 
where  the  wolves  could  not  molest  it 
nor  the  red-wattled  buzzards  batten 
on  its  delicate  bones. 

This  Christian  office  completed,  she 
prepared  and  ate  her  frugal  breakfast ; 
after  which,  taking  her  rifle,  she  went 
into  the  forest  again  to  make  a  re- 
connoissance  and  find  out  if  possible 
something  that  would  tell  her  more 
of  the  strange  and  sad  occurrence  of 
the  early  morning. 

The  hounds  followed  their  mistress, 
of  course,  but  she  was  not  as  friendly 
disposed  toward  ' '  Tige ' '  as  had  been 
her  wont,  for  somehow  she  still  felt 
inclined  to  fasten  the  guilt  of  the 
63 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

baby's  death  upon  him,  and  he  kept 
himself  at  a  more  than  usually  re 
spectful  distance  behind  her,  as  if  he 
knew  that  she  suspected  him.  Clariss 
occupied  herself  more  than  two  hours 
in  investigating  every  clump  and 
thicket,  aided  by  the  dogs,  whom  she 
made  use  their  long  sharp  noses  to 
the  best  advantage. 

At  last  "  Tige "  insensibly  led  her 
to  a  little  heap  of  ashes  in  the  dens 
est  portion  of  the  timber,  yet  not 
more  than  an  eighth  of  a  mile  from 
the  door  of  her  cabin.  The  thinly 
scattered  tufts  of  bunch-grass  in  the 
vicinity  were  somewhat  flattened,  in 
dicating  that  they  had  recently  been 
trodden  upon,  and  as  soon  as  she  saw 
these  signs  of  disturbance  she  stopped, 
and  thrusting  her  hand  into  the  di- 
64 


A   GHASTL  Y  DISCO  VER  T. 

minutive  mound  of  ashes  found  they 
were  still  warm,  as  she  had  suspected. 

She  now  knew  that  some  one  had 
camped  there  the  preceding  night, 
and  an  Indian  unquestionably:  the 
remains  of  the  fire  proved  that,  for 
the  white  man  generally  builds  one  so 
large  that  the  heat  drives  him  away, 
while  the  savage  makes  a  small  one, 
and  hovering  over  it  with  his  blanket, 
which  protects  it,  receives  the  sum 
total  of  warmth. 

Clariss  now  began,  in  her  instinct 
ive  manner,  child  of  the  forest  and 
mountain  that  she  was,  to  method 
ically  investigate  for  "signs"  that 
would  unmistakably  reveal  to  her  the 
character  of  the  sequestered  camp's 
last  night's  occupant.  She  got  down 
prone  upon  the  ground  and  examined 

—5  65 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

critically  each  separate  blade  of  the 
disturbed  grass  with  all  the  astute 
ness  of  the  savage,  and  after  patiently 
devoting  half  an  hour  to  this  intricate 
work  she  discovered  the  impress  of  a 
foot,  small,  symmetrical,  and  mocca- 
sined;  also  that  great  caution  had 
been  exercised  to  conceal  its  owner's 
presence  there.  Clariss  was  so  per 
fect  in  the  subtle  art  the  Indians  had 
taught  her  during  her  nearly  five 
years'  constant  association  with  them, 
that  not  only  could  she  determine  the 
footprint  to  be  that  of  a  squaw,  but 
the  tribe  to  which  she  belonged,  and 
the  very  intent  to  hide  the  fact  of 
her  migration  to  the  vicinity. 

Of  course  as  these  revelations  mani 
fested  themselves  to  Clariss  under  her 
rigid   scrutiny,  she  was   more   or   less 
66 


A   GHASTLY  DISCOVERT. 

excited;  not  so  greatly,  perhaps,  aa 
was  Robinson  Crusoe  when  he  came 
suddenly  upon  that  mysterious  foot 
print  on  the  shore  of  his  desert  isl 
and. 

Clariss  was  only  annoyed  at  her  dis 
covery,  because  she  could  not  under 
stand  the  meaning  of  any  Indian's 
presence  near  her  home  at  that  sea 
son;  for  the  Ute  men  were  all  on 
their  annual  hunt  in  the  Plains  re 
gion  below  the  mountains,  and  the 
camp  of  their  women  was  many  miles 
south  of  there.  Yet  that  faint  im 
print  on  the  grass  was  made  by  a 
Ute  squaw;  there  was  no  mistake  on 
that  point. 

How  easily  the  problem  which  so 
disturbed  her  could  have  been  solved 
if  Dick  had  only  been  honest  and 
67 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

told  his  wife  the  true  cause  of  his 
absence.  She  would  have  then  known 
that  revenge  was  the  incentive  which 
had  brought  the  Indian  woman  to  the 
vicinity  of  his  cabin.  But  poor  Cla- 
riss  was  in  blissful  ignorance  of  her 
husband's  crime ;  and  at  night,  in 
the  solitude  of  her  room,  with  no 
companionship  but  the  dumb  hounds, 
she  continued  to  ponder  and  worry 
over  the  strange  incidents  of  the 
morning.  She  was  not  at  all  afraid, 
but  the  affair  alarmed  her  simply  be 
cause  of  the  mystery  surrounding  it. 
She  remained  awake  for  hours  dwell 
ing  upon  it;  nor  could  she  banish  it 
from  her  thoughts  all  the  next  day. 


68 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TTbe  SbaOows  H>eepem 

ONE  evening  about  two  weeks  after 
the  advent  of  the  prowling  squaw, 
Dick  returned.  He  was  so  delighted 
to  see  Clariss,  that  when  her  more 
than  usually  demonstrative  greetings 
were  concluded,  he  told  her  he  would 
now  remain  at  home  and  never  leave 
her  for  a  longer  period  than  a  day 
or  two.  He  had  been  more  than  well 
paid  for  his  trip,  and  he  threw  into 
her  lap,  as  he  communicated  this  joy 
ful  promise,  a  shot-bag  half -full  of 
American  gold  coin,  the  result  of  the 
sale  of  his  furs  captured  during  his 
69 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

abBence.  He  told  her  that  the  money 
was  for  her;  to  hide  it  in  some  safe 
place,  and  that  he  would  constantly 
add  more  to  it,  so  that  if  he  should 
die  first  she  would  not  be  dependent 
on  the  charity  of  her  people.  He 
then  subsided  into  silence  near  the 
fire,  while  Clariss,  her  heart  filled 
with  joy,  commenced  preparations  for 
their  supper. 

Pretty  soon,  between  the  great  puffs 
of  smoke  he  drew  from  his  pipe,  he 
began  to  inquire  how  she  had  gotten 
on  during  his  absence,  and  whether 
she  had  been  lonesome.  All  of  his 
conversation  did  not  require  more 
than  five  minutes  of  his  time  after 
his  arrival,  for  he  was  never  a  great 
talker,  but  he  sat  and  listened  to 
Clariss  as  she  answered  all  his  ques- 
70 


THE  SHADOWS  DEEPEN. 

tions  at  length.  She  related  in  the 
most  minute  detail  everything  that 
had  come  to  her  in  her  strange  ex 
perience,  but  she  did  not  notice  his 
convulsive  start,  nor  the  dark  scowl 
on  his  face,  when  she  reached  that 
part  of  her  story  about  her  mysteri 
ous  visitor  and  the  dead  child.  But 
when  their  meal  was  served,  he  ate 
BO  little  and  appeared  so  nervous  that 
she  playfully  chided  him  upon  his 
want  of  appetite  after  his  long  day's 
ride. 

Never  since  that  golden  morning 
nearly  six  years  before,  when  he  "fust 
sot  eyes  on  Clariss  "  as  she  dipped  up 
the  sparkling  water  from  its  rocky 
bed  at  her  father's  door  to  hand  him 
a  drink,  had  Dick  Curtis  ever  spoken 
but  gently  to  his  wife ;  now  he  looked 
7* 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

up  darkly  at  her,  and  harshly  replied : 
"What  consarn  o'  yourn.  is  it  ef  I 
don't  eat  like  ez  I  war  a  bar  ?  'Pears 
ter  me  I  hev  larned  ter  tuk  keer  o' 
myse'f  'thout  yer  hevin'  any  call  ter 
jor  'bout  it;  yer  tongue  jess  goes  like 
er  mill  1  Ef  I  'd  know'd  yer  war  go- 
in'  ter  quarrelin'  'bout  my  eatin'  an* 
sich,  I'd  a-stayed  in  ther  woods:  yer 
fault-findhV  riles  me  I" 

Then  giving  a  fearful  dig  with  his 
heavy  boot  into  "  Tige's "  ribs,  who 
at  that  unlucky  moment  happened  to 
come  sniffing  toward  him,  he  turned 
around  on  his  chair  and  commenced 
to  fill  his  pipe,  while  the  discomfited 
dog  retreated,  howling,  to  his  pile  of 
furs  in  the  corner. 

Poor  Clariss  was  so  completely 
dumbfounded  at  the  sudden  change 
72 


THE  SHADOWS  DEEPEN. 

in  her  husband's  manner  that  she 
simply  dropped  like  a  wet  rag  on  the 
floor,  so  terribly  had  the  shock  affect 
ed  her. 

Dick  looked  bewilderingly  around 
when  he  saw  his  wife  fall,  like  a  man 
who  had  suddenly  awakened  from  a 
horrid  dream,  and  did  not  know  what 
to  do,  he  was  so  thoroughly  fright 
ened.  But  in  a  moment  his  better 
nature  and  love  for  Clariss  reasserted 
itself,  and  frantically  rushing  to  where 
she  was  lying,  he  lifted  her  in  his 
brawny  arms  and  placed  her  tenderly 
on  a  pile  of  buffalo  robes,  all  the 
while  "  dad  -  burning  "  himself  for  a 
"dern'd  fool," — his  only  approach  to 
swearing, —  and  pouring  into  her  ears 
his  penitence  for  his  unwarranted  con 
duct. 

73 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

Clariss,  at  these  evidently  sincere 
manifestations  of  his  sorrow,  opened 
her  eyes,  and  sat  up,  clinging  to  him 
in  her  deep  agony:  she  was  ashamed, 
disgraced,  and  crushed;  she  trembled 
like  a  poplar  —  for  such  an  experience 
had  never  before  come  to  her  in  all 
her  young  life,  either  at  her  father's 
or  since  her  marriage;  and  Dick  was 
really  alarmed  at  her  condition. 

"Thar,  Ciss,"  said  he  soothingly, 
as  he  toyed  with  her  golden  curls, 
patted  her  head,  and  petted  her  in 
his  rough  way,  though  it  was  as  hon 
est  and  sincere  as  if  he  had  been  the 
very  impersonation  of  grace — "  thar, 
Ciss,  don't  tuk  on  so;  dad-burn  the 
rotten  luck  I  I  didn't  know  w'at  I 
wuz  a-doin'  of.  I  know  I'd  oughtn't 
ter  be  let  live  for  treatin'  on  yer  so. 
74 


THE  SHADOWS  DEEPEN. 

I  dunno  w'at  ails  me :  kin  yer  tell  ? 
I  ain't  wantin'  yer  ter  cry,  Clariss; 
w'at  kin  I  do  ter  make  yer  forgit  all 
this  hyar  tantrum  o'  mine  ?  I  jess 
despise  myse'f  fer  them  jawiii'  words, 
an'  I  '11  be  dad-burned  ef  yer  shill 
hear  any  more  on  'em." 

Dick  could  not  be  eloquent,  but  he 
meant  all  he  said,  and  Clariss  knew 
it.  So  her  sympathetic  heart  and 
loving  nature  went  out  to  him  again, 
and  he  realized  that  he  was  forgiven. 
Yet,  notwithstanding  his  sincerity,  he 
lacked  the  moral  courage  to  tell  his 
wife  that  it  was  remorse  for  his  un 
warranted  murder  of  that  woman's 
husband  which  so  disturbed  him,  cou 
pled  with  the  fact  that  she  had  been 
hounding  his  trail  ever  since.  He 
knew  perfectly  well  what  her  visits  to 
75 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

the  cabin  foreboded,  but,  afraid  to 
disclose  it  to  Clariss,  had  cowardly 
vented  his  rage  on  the  unsuspecting 
girl. 

All  that  night  he  tossed  and  tum 
bled  on  his  bed,  for  he  felt  that  it 
would  not  now  be  prudent  for  him 
to  remain  at  home  while  that  squaw 
lived.  His  soul  revolted  at  the  idea 
of  shooting  her  and  thus  ridding 
himself  of  her  presence  at  once;  he 
thought  that  if  he  could  go  off  again 
she  might  wear  herself  out  following 
him,  and  then  her  blood  would  not 
be  on  his  head.  But  what  excuse 
could  he  make  to  Clariss  after  his 
earnest  protestations  that  he  would 
not  leave  her  again  ?  So  sorely  puz 
zled  was  he  over  the  question  that 
he  could  not  sleep. 
76 


THE  SHADOWS  DEEPEN. 

When  after  breakfast  next  morning 
Clariss  saw  Dick  busy  himself  with 
his  horses  and  pack  animals,  evidently 
getting  ready  for  another  trip,  she 
wonderingly  inquired  why  he  was 
making  such  elaborate  preparations, 
and  where  he  was  going. 

Dick  answered  his  wife  evasively, 
though  he  was  gentle  as  ever.  He 
told  her  that  he  had  met  some  par 
ties  while  at  Rayado  who  wanted  him 
to  join  them  on  a  buffalo  hunt  down 
on  the  Plains,  but  that  at  first  he 
had  refused,  and  given  up  the  idea 
until  he  had  slept  over  it,  and  had 
concluded  to  go,  thinking  there  might 
be  some  big  money  in  it  for  him. 
He  had  just  time  to  overtake  the 
outfit  at  Hole-in-the-Rock  if  he  start 
ed  at  once,  and  he  must  light  out 
77 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

right  away.  He  was  soon  ready  to 
leave,  and  Clariss  bade  him  an  affec 
tionate  and  unusually  demonstrative 
farewell;  but  her  heart  was  sore,  for 
the  seeds  of  doubt  in  his  sincerity 
had  for  the  first  time  implanted 
themselves  in  her  heretofore  too  con 
fiding  nature. 

It  was  just  fairly  day  —  they  had 
risen  very  early  —  when  Dick  mount 
ed  "Kaintuck,"  whistled  to  the  deer- 
hounds,  and  was  off  as  the  sun  gilded 
the  upper  edge  of  the  canon's  walls. 
Clariss  stood  outside  the  gorge,  as 
was  her  wont  on  such  occasions,  but 
she  could  not  help  thinking  of  his 
strange  conduct,  for  which  she  vainly 
essayed  to  divine  a  cause;  and  when 
she  saw  him  a  mere  speck  on  the 
crest  of  the  giddy  mesa  in  the  full 
78 


THE  SHADOWS  DEEPEN. 

sheen  of  the  morning  light  —  and  he 
soon  passed  out  of  sight  —  she  re 
treated  to  her  lonely  room,  soul-sick 
and  despondent. 


79 


CHAPTER  X. 

TTbe  flDsstertous  Tlrafl. 

DICK,  either  purposely  or  forgetting 
to  do  BO,  did  not  tell  his  wife  how 
long  he  proposed  to  remain  away, 
and  now  nearly  three  weeks,  unevent 
ful  thus  far,  had  passed,  and  still  no 
sign  or  word  came  to  the  suffering 
girl.  Late  one  night,  however, —  it 
was  that  of  the  third  Sunday  after 
Dick's  abrupt  departure, —  Clariss  had 
long  since  retired  and  was  sleeping 
peacefully,  when  she  was  suddenly 
awakened  by  a  fearful  howl  in  con 
cert  from  "Buck"  and  "Tige,"  who 
had  madly  rushed  to  the  door,  which 
80 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  TRAIL. 

they  were  now  scratching  and 
ing  vigorously  in  their  frantic  efforts 
to  get  out.  They  had  evidently  tried 
the  window  first,  but  Dick  had  barred 
that  before  he  left  by  nailing  some 
rough-hewn  oak  slats  across  the  lower 
half  of  the  frame,  in  order  to  prevent 
a  repetition  of  their  last  disastrous 
escapade ;  so  they  were  driven  to  the 
only  legitimate  exit  in  their  despair 
and  rage. 

Clariss  ordered  the  dogs  to  be  quiet, 
which  mandate  they  whiningly  obeyed, 
while  she  got  out  of  bed,  and  going 
to  a  loophole  in  the  wall,  looked  out 
toward  the  timber  and  listened.  It 
was  intensely  dark ;  there  was  110 
moon,  so  she  could  discern  nothing, 
but  holding  her  ear  to  the  opening, 
heard,  or  fancied  she  heard,  a  light 

—6  81 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

footstep  that  was  rapidly  receding. 
She  patiently  stood  there  for  some 
moments,  her  heart  beating  violently, 
waiting  for  further  developments ;  but 
the  dogs  now  drooping  their  great 
ears  and  retiring  of  their  own  accord 
to  the  pile  of  furs  in  the  corner,  be 
gan  to  curl  themselves  up  after  the 
manner  of  their  normal  habit  when 
going  to  sleep,  and  she  knew  that 
whatever  had  caused  their  uproar  had 
vanished ;  so  she  too  betook  herself 
to  bed  again,  nothing  more  occurring 
during  the  long  hours  before  day  to 
disturb  the  ordinary  quiet  of  her 
cabin. 

The    instant    that   morning    entered 

her    windows,    Clariss    was    up.      Her 

first    act   after    dressing   was    to    take 

her  rifle,  let  the  dogs  out,  herself  im- 

82 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  TRAIL. 

mediately  following,   to   learn  if   pos- 

* 
sible   something   of   the   cause   of    the 

night's  alarm.  A  sharp  white  frost 
covered  the  scarped  mountain  -  side, 
the  emerald  needles  of  the  pines,  the 
skeleton  limbs  of  the  leafless  oaks, 
and  the  whole  valley,  in  its  crystal 
sheen, —  for  winter  came  early  in  the 
deep  gorges  of  the  Range  so  far  above 
the  sea  level.  The  slightest  track, 
whether  of  the  ponderous,  shambling 
bear,  the  stealthily  stepping  lynx,  or 
the  diminutive  "collared  bunting," 
stood  out  in  bold  insculpture  on  the 
sparkling  rime,  wherever  the  sun's 
rays  illumined  the  little  bottom  away 
from  the  shadow  of  the  canon's  walls. 
"Buck"  and  "  Tige "  walked  lei 
surely  into  the  crisp  air,  their  noses 
elevated  as  they  sniffed  energetically, 
83 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

while  Clariss,  before  Bhe  had  fairly 
stepped  over  the  threshold,  saw  within 
a  rod  of  the  door,  in  a  dozen  differ 
ent  places,  the  imprint  of  a  mocca- 
sined  foot  clearly  cut  in  the  white 
pall  that  was  spread  over  the  earth. 
Of  course  she  was  terribly  disturbed 
at  first;  around  the  cabin  that  mys 
terious  trail  was  reproduced  a  score 
of  times,  as  Clariss  in  her  deep-read 
mountain  lore  discovered  while  she 
followed  and  counted  its  various  wind 
ings.  She  tracked  it  to  the  little 
grave  in  the  oak-opening  north  of  the 
hut,  where  the  mother  of  the  buried 
babe  had  evidently  paused  some  time; 
and  from  that  fact  Clariss  now  knew 
who  her  strange  midnight  visitor  was. 
But  how  the  mother  of  the  child 
knew  where  it  was,  puzzled  Clariss, 
84 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  TRAIL. 

and  the  only  way  she  could  account) 
for  it  was  that  the  woman  must  have 
secretly  watched  her  that  morning 
from  some  secure  place  in  the  timber 
which  even  the  dogs  had  failed  to 
discover  —  probably  from  the  top  of  a 
tree. 

At  one  end  of  the  pile  of  rocks 
that  covered  the  body  of  her  child 
and  protected  it  from  the  jaws  of  the 
ravenous  wolves,  the  mother  had  af 
fixed  two  curiously  fashioned  willow 
twigs;  a  trifling  circumstance  in  it 
self  to  the  careless  observer,  but  full 
of  portent  to  one  who  could  interpret 
the  mystic  symbolization  of  the  Indi 
an's  silent  language.  Clariss  thought 
fully  contemplated  the  curious  emblem 
of  a  savage  mother's  feelings  for  a 
few  moments,  and  then  again  took  up 
85 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

the  squaw 'B  trail.  It  led  her  through 
the  fringe  of  timber  to  the  bank  of 
the  Btream,  across,  and  on  into  the 
deep  forest,  where  she  abandoned  it 
and  turned  to  her  cabin,  not  so  ex 
cited  as  when  she  had  started,  but 
more  mystified  than  ever. 

By  what  subtle  perception  the  In 
dian  woman  learned  that  Dick  and 
his  hounds  were  not  at  home,  is  one 
of  those  remarkable  evidences  of  the 
astuteness  of  the  race  which  the  white 
man  fails  to  comprehend.  She  never 
would  have  ventured  there  if  he  had 
been,  as  the  deer-hounds  always  re 
mained  outside  of  the  cabin,  and  she 
would  have  been  torn  in  pieces  by 
them;  for  their  hatred  toward  the 
*  *  breed ' '  was  even  greater  than  that 
of  their  master,  if  such  a  thing  were 
86 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  TRAIL. 

possible.  She  immediately  followed 
on  Dick's  trail  after  her  midnight 
visit  to  her  baby's  grave,  as  subse 
quent  events  as  they  are  related  will 
confirm. 

The  squaw  certainly  bore  no  malice 
toward  Clariss  —  the  lonely  wife  was 
secure  in  that  belief;  but  of  the  cause 
of  the  woman's  repeated  visits  to  the 
cabin,  she  was  as  profoundly  ignorant 
as  the  hounds  themselves.  She  un 
derstood  perfectly  well  the  meaning 
of  the  strangely  fashioned  twigs  at 
the  head  of  the  little  grave  near  her 
window,  but  their  application  —  re 
venge! —  she  never  for  a  moment  con 
nected  with  either  herself  or  Dick. 
In  fact,  the  very  presence  of  the 
symbols  also  confidently  assured  her 
that  even  "Tige,"  of  whom  she  was 
87 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

still  suspicious  at  times,  must  hence 
forth  be  held  guiltless  of  the  child's 
murder. 

Poor  girl  I  She  little  dreamed  that 
the  shadow  of  the  real  criminal's 
Nemesis  already  hovered  over  her 
once-happy  home,  and  that  when  the 
hour  came  its  black  wings  would  en 
compass  her  in  the  sorrow  they  would 
inevitably  bring. 


88 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Surprise 
to  tbe  Xonels  Mite* 


ANOTHER  week  dragged  on  its  lone 
some  rounds  ;  the  events  of  that  ex 
citing  night  only  a  short  time  before 
were  still  fresh  in  Clariss's  memory, 
but  she  had  naturally  subsided  into 
the  ordinary  current  of  her  seques 
tered  life  again.  She  performed  au 
tomatically  the  simple  daily  routine 
of  duty  the  care  of  her  severely  plain 
home  demanded,  giving  herself  up  to 
the  flattering  dream  which  hope  cher 
ished,  that  her  truant  husband  would 
soon  return.  Every  afternoon,  as  ex- 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

pectancy  heightened  and  the  weather 
permitted,  she  would  sit  on  a  rude 
bench  that  Dick  had  constructed  for 
her  in  a  leisure  moment,  just  outside 
of  the  cabin  door,  and  watch  the  rug 
ged  trail  on  the  crest  of  the  mesa  for 
his  coming.  She  did  not,  however, 
as  Evangeline  is  portrayed,  listlessly 
gaze  into  the  "blue  empyrean,"  seek 
ing  the  "silver  lining,"  for  Clariss 
even  at  these  times  occupied  herself 
with  her  knitting-needles,  or  some 
simple  work  not  requiring  much  men 
tal  effort;  for  she  was  rarely  abso 
lutely  idle  —  the  result  of  her  early 
training  under  her  mother's  guidance. 
"Buck"  and  "  Tige  "  were  her  insep 
arable  companions  on  such  occasions; 
they  would  lie  quietly  near  her,  their 
great  lustrous  eyes  watching  every 
9° 


HEART-BREAKING  SURPRISE. 

movement  of  her  swift  fingers  as 
she  fashioned  the  yarn  into  shapely 
mittens  or  warm  stockings  for  the 
absent  one.  They  were  ever  on  the 
alert  for  any  '  *  varmint ' '  that  might 
have  the  temerity  to  venture  near  the 
presence  of  their  sacred  charge. 

On  Monday,  after  more  than  a  week 
had  elapsed  since  the  Indian  woman's 
last  visit,  a  charming  winter's  after 
noon,  Clariss,  whose  anxiety  increased 
in  a  ratio  corresponding  with  the  too 
slow  passage  of  the  hours,  was  in  her 
favorite  position  on  the  rustic  seat 
outside  her  cabin,  the  dogs,  as  usual, 
lying  near  her.  She  had  been  there 
but  a  short  time,  when  up  from  the 
canon  there  suddenly  rose  a  noise 
like  the  rustling  of  mighty  wings. 

Clariss  jumped  to  her  feet  in  a  mo- 
91 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ment;  but,  strangely,  neither  "  Tige  " 
nor  "Buck,"  who  had  as  quickly  risen 
from  their  comfortable  postures,  ut 
tered  a  single  bark  or  howl  1  Their 
sharp  noses  were  of  course  at  once 
elevated  in  the  direction  from  whence 
the  sound  proceeded,  and  almost  im 
mediately  their  tails  began  to  wag  in 
that  deliberate  and  confident  manner 
which  dogs  of  their  breed  are  wont 
to  exhibit  when  they  catch  the  scent 
of  anything  they  are  familiar  with. 

Clariss  observed  this  action  of  her 
two  protectors,  her  heart  in  her  mouth 
for  joy,  because  she  understood  what 
it  meant  at  once:  they  had  winded 
something  that  belonged  to  her  home, 
and  what  could  it  be  but  the  approach 
of  their  master  ?  This  she  believed 
perfectly,  as  she  peered  into  the  shade 
92 


HEART-BREAKING  SURPRISE. 

of  the  canon  for  the  form  of  her  hus 
band,  whom  her  emotion  told  her  was 
near.  But  when  in  another  moment 
the  deer-hounds  he  had  taken  away 
with  him  emerged  from  the  sumac 
thicket  that  hid  the  rocky  trail,  and 
there  was  no  report  of  a  rifle,  his  in 
variable  signal  to  let  her  know  that 
he  was  near,  she  became  dizzy,  and 
the  blood  in  her  veins  almost  ceased 
to  circulate. 

Now  she  knew  that  he  was  not 
there,  and  the  return  of  his  hounds 
alone  filled  her  soul  with  a  torturing 
presentiment  that  something  terrible 
must  have  befallen  him.  She  went 
into  the  cabin  for  a  moment  and 
threw  herself  despairingly  upon  the 
bed,  almost  ready  to  give  up  now. 
But  by  an  effort  of  that  strong  will- 
93 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

power  which  had  BO  often  served  in 
the  hour  of  great  emergencies,  she 
soon  recovered  her  normal  coolness, 
came  outside  again,  and  pityingly 
contemplated  "Bruce"  and  "Pont," 
who,  gaunt,  bloody,  and  mud  -  be 
grimed,  panting,  and  evidently  ex 
hausted  by  travel,  laid  themselves 
down  at  her  feet  and  appealingly 
gazed  into  her  face. 

She  then  went  and  cut  from  a 
quarter  of  deer  hanging  on  a  wooden 
peg  in  the  wall  near  the  door  some 
strips  of  the  dried  venison,  and  fed 
to  the  half-famished  hounds.  After 
their  appetites  had  been  appeased, 
they  both  ran  to  the  mouth  of  the 
canon  and  back  again  to  where  Cla- 
riss  stood  earnestly  watching  their 
actions,  several  times,  all  the  while 
94 


HEART-BREAKING  SURPRISE. 

whining,  and  at  intervals  interjecting 
a  short,  quick  characteristic  yell,  in 
their  endeavors  to  induce  her  to  fol 
low  them.  "Pont"  even  exhibited 
so  much  sagacity  as  to  take  hold  of 
her  buckskin  skirt  with  his  great 
white  teeth,  and  persistently  pull  at 
it  in  his  earnestness  to  make  himself 
understood.  Poor  girl  I  Too  well  she 
comprehended  what  in  their  mute  ap 
peals  they  were  trying  to  tell  her; 
but  as  night  was  now  already  upon 
the  little  valley,  she  was  compelled 
to  postpone  any  further  action  until 
the  morrow:  so  she  almost  despair 
ingly  sought  her  lonely  bed,  to  brood 
over  her  deep  trouble  and  to  formu 
late  her  plans,  that  when  day  came 
again  she  could  intelligently  carry 
them  out. 

95 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

Only  disturbed  snatches  of  sleep 
visited  her  eyes  that  seemingly  inter 
minable  night,  and  when  the  sun 
came  shining  into  the  great  canon 
next  morning  Clariss  was  more  than 
half-way  on  the  "trail"  to  Tom 
Boggs's,  a  brother-in-law  of  Kit  Car 
son's,  her  nearest  white  neighbor,  a 
wealthy  ranchero  whose  hacienda  was 
on  La  Purgatoire  (or  "  Picket  -Wire," 
according  to  the  corruption  of  the 
Spanish  by  the  American  residents 
there,  for  the  name  of  that  river), 
about  thirty  miles  from  her  home. 

On  revolving  the  distressing  subject 
over  in  her  mind  during  the  sleepless 
hours  of  the  night,  Clariss  determined 
to  go  and  inform  Mr.  Boggs  of  her 
suspicions  concerning  her  husband, 
and  be  advised  as  to  the  best  course 
96 


HEART-BREAKING  SURPRISE. 

to  pursue.  So  at  the  first  streak  of 
dawn  she  was  up,  saddled  her  pony, 
and  after  shutting  the  exhausted  deer- 
hounds  in  the  cabin,  taking  "Buck" 
and  ' '  Tige ' '  for  an  escort  she  started 
across  the  Range  —  for  she  was  an  ex 
pert  rider,  and  her  animal  as  sure 
footed  as  a  burro. 


-7  97 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Qlartss  goes  in 

searcb  of  ffoelp* 

CLARISS  arrived  at  the  Boggs  hos 
pitable  ranch  a  short  time  after  nine 
o'clock,  and  found  all  the  elder  mem 
bers  of  the  family  just  finishing  their 
chocolate. 

To  them  she  poured  out  her  sor 
rows;  relating  her  strange  experience 
with  the  squaw,  the  circumstance  of 
the  deer-hounds'  return,  and  their  in 
telligent  efforts  to  induce  her  to  fol 
low  them. 

Tom  listened  attentively  to  her  sad 
story,  and  when  she  had  finished, 
98 


A  SEARCH  FOR  HELP. 

told  her  to  "keep  up  a  good  heart, " 
assuring  her  that  he  would  do  every 
thing  possible  to  assist  her  in  finding 
her  husband.  He  then  ordered  his 
horse,  to  go  and  counsel  with  some 
of  the  other  ranchmen  on  the  river 
in  relation  to  instituting  a  search  for 
the  missing  man  as  soon  as  they 
could  muster  a  party.  Settlers  were 
widely  separated  from  each  other  in 
those  early  days  on  the  border,  and 
a  neighbor  was  considered  "close" 
at  twenty  miles. 

After  Tom  had  left  the  room  to 
start  on  his  mission,  his  estimable 
wife  through  much  persuasion  and 
motherly  comforting  succeeded  in  in 
ducing  the  almost  heart-broken  Cla- 
riss  to  drink  a  cup  of  tea,  eat  some 
thing,  and  then  lie  down  and  go  to 
99 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

Bleep ;  for  the  good  old  woman  saw 
that  the  "child,"  as  she  called  Cla- 
riss,  would  soon  drop  from  sheer  ex 
citement  and  exhaustion  if  she  could 
not  be  calmed,  so  exerted  all  her 
feminine  ingenuity  to  effect  it. 

It  was  long  after  dark  when  Boggs 
returned,  bringing  with  him  a  Mexi 
can  and  two  Americans.  He  told 
Clariss,  who  only  a  few  moments  be 
fore  his  arrival  had  awakened  from 
her  much-needed  rest,  that  they  would 
leave  for  her  cabin  early  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  from  there  follow  up  Dick's 
"trail,"  which,  with  the  assistance 
of  the  deer-hounds,  if  they  would 
promptly  "lead  out,"  he  hoped  they 
would  soon  strike  and  bring  her  good 
news  of  him. 

He    tried   every   art,    in    his    honest 


A  SEAUCH  FOR  HELP. 

rough  way,  to  cheer  up  the  "pore 
child,"  and  with  the  aid  of  his  wife 
succeeded  in  nearly  restoring  her  nor 
mal  hopeful  condition  by  the  time  it 
was  necessary  that  they  all  retire; 
but  in  the  depth  of  his  own  mind 
Tom  Boggs  verily  believed  that  when 
Dick  should  be  found,  his  bleached 
bones  would  be  the  only  thing  left 
of  him. 


101 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

Rescue  of  tbe 

Xost  TCwnter. 

BREAKFABT  was  disposed  of  by  can 
dlelight  next  morning,  and  just  as 
the  sun's  broad  disk  appeared  on  the 
horizon  of  the  wide  valley,  Boggs's 
little  party  organized  for  the  search 
of  Dick  Curtis,  accompanied  by  Cla- 
riss,  the  dogs,  and  Mrs.  Boggs,  who 
had  kindly  determined  that  she  would 
go  and  stay  with  the  poor  child  until 
something  definite  was  learned  of  her 
husband's  fate,  started  for  the  isolat 
ed  cabin  at  the  mouth  of  the  great 
canon. 

102 


THE  RESCUE. 

All  were  necessarily  on  horseback, 
for  there  were  no  wagon-roads  in  the 
Territory  then  except  the  Santa  Fe 
trail,  and  they  only  followed  it  across 
the  Arkansas,  where  they  immediately 
left  it  and  made  a  detour  into  the 
heart  of  the  Range. 

They  arrived  at  Clariss's  home  by 
half -past  eleven,  having  ridden  as 
rapidly  as  the  precipitous  and  rocky 
cut-off  through  the  mountains  would 
permit  ;  consequently  their  animals 
were  considerably  blown. 

Clariss's  first  thought  was  for  the 
deer-hounds,  which  she  at  once  liber 
ated  and  fed,  and  who,  immediately 
after  they  were  satisfied,  commenced 
the  same  intelligent  tactics  pursued 
by  them  on  the  evening  of  their  re 
turn  to  the  cabin.  This  was  a  source 
103 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

of  much  satisfaction  to  both  Boggs 
and  Clariss,  for  they  were  now  confi 
dent  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in 
starting  them  on  Dick's  trail. 

The  horses  were  picketed  on  the 
bottom  and  each  fed  a  ration  of  bar 
ley  that  Boggs  had  brought  from  the 
ranch,  and  while  they  were  eating, 
Mrs.  Boggs  and  Clariss  prepared  din 
ner;  the  Mexican  meanwhile  packing 
the  provisions  and  equipage  for  the 
trip,  on  the  backs  of  a  couple  of  bur 
ros,  the  property  of  Dick. 

About  three  o'clock  the  party  struck 
out,  carrying  sufficient  rations  to  last 
them  a  week.  The  deer-hounds,  the 
moment  they  saw  that  arrangements 
were  being  made  for  a  journey,  seemed 
to  comprehend  the  situation  of  affairs, 
and  could  hardly  contain  themselves. 
104 


THE  RESCUE. 

They  showed  their  delight  by  every 
manifestation  of  canine  joy:  they  ran 
into  the  canon  and  out  again,  snapped 
at  the  patient  burros,  jumped  at  the 
horses,  barking  as  loudly  as  they 
could  all  the  while,  apparently  impa 
tient  of  the  delay  in  starting. 

The  little  cavalcade  moved  out  at 
a  brisk  walk  into  the  sumac  copse, 
through  which  the  trail  into  the 
canon  ran  at  its  inception ;  the  deer- 
hounds,  well  in  advance,  fairly  set 
tled  down  to  business,  with  their  long 
noses  close  to  the  ground,  deeply  bay 
ing,  indicating  to  Boggs  that  they 
were  on  the  scent  of  their  own  track 
by  which  they  had  returned  home. 

They  reached  a  spring  about  eleven 
miles  from  the  cabin  that  night, 
where  they  determined  to  camp,  for 
105 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

the  trail  over  which  the  hounds  had 
led  them  was  so  terribly  rough,  and 
so  precipitous  in  many  places,  that 
the  horses  could  hardly  retain  their 
footing.  All  the  animals  were  badly 
winded  when  they  arrived  there,  and 
darkness  coming  quickly  upon  them 
they  did  not  deem  it  prudent  to  ven 
ture  farther,  although  the  hounds 
were  as  eager  as  ever,  and  had  to  be 
tied  up  to  prevent  them  from  going 
ahead. 

At  the  first  glimpse  of  dawn  next 
morning  the  horses  were  saddled  and 
the  men  through  breakfast,  ready  to 
mount  and  start,  waiting  for  it  to 
grow  light  enough  for  them  to  see 
the  trail.  As  soon  as  it  came  they 
at  once  pushed  forward,  the  hounds 
as  usual  in  front,  whom  they  relig- 
106 


THE  RESCUE. 

iously  followed,  and  who  were  appar 
ently  more  excited  than  on  the  pre 
ceding  afternoon. 

They  had  not  advanced  more  than 
three  miles,  when  upon  entering  a 
sheltered  little  valley  they  saw  the 
two  burros  Dick  had  driven  away 
with  him,  their  packs  of  furs  still 
properly  adjusted  on  their  saddles, 
slowly  walking,  and  cropping  the  dry 
grass  on  their  way  to  the  canon. 
This  strange  incident  gave  a  fresh 
impetus  and  a  new  hope  for  the  out 
come  of  their  mission  which  it  was 
not  inspired  with  before,  and  they 
naturally  spurred  their  animals  into 
a  lope  as  soon  as  they  reached  the 
smooth  intervale.  They  did  not  at 
tempt  to  catch  the  burros,  knowing 
that  the  faithful  creatures  would  go 
107 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

to  their  rude  but  comfortable  quarters 
without  any  interference;  for  these 
patient  beasts,  like  cats,  become  at 
tached  to  localities,  and  will  never 
desert  them  voluntarily.  Besides,  as 
Boggs  suggested  to  his  companions, 
their  arrival  at  home  with  their  packs 
intact  would  inspire  and  encourage 
the  "  women  -  folks  "  with  hope,  as 
their  presence  had  already  inspired 
them. 

The  valley  was  nearly  four  miles 
wide,  which  they  passed  over  in  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour,  and  when  the 
trail  left  it  again  it  entered  another 
rough,  rocky  series  of  small  canons 
similar  to  those  they  had  encountered 
the  day  before. 

By  noon,  after  a  weary  and  difficult 
climb,  they  came  to  a  "bench,"  in 
1 08 


THE  RESCUE. 

mining  parlance ;  that  is,  a  depres 
sion  of  the  strata,  which  had  by  some 
natural  agency  aeons  ago  been  cut 
out,  as  it  were,  of  the  side  of  the 
mountain  near  its  summit,  and  their 
way  now  followed  the  meanderings 
of  this  bank  of  a  mighty  precipice, 
whose  wall  rose  perpendicularly  from 
its  base  in  the  terrible  gorge  below 
their  dangerous  path  more  than  two 
thousand  feet  without  a  break  in  its 
weather-polished  face. 

As  they  were  cautiously  approach 
ing  one  of  the  most  acute  curves  the 
narrow  trail  made  on  the  edge  of  this 
dizzy  shelf  of  granite,  the  hounds, 
seized  by  a  sudden  impulse,  bounded 
forward  and  were  soon  lost  to  sight 
around  the  sharp  turn.  But  they  had 
evidently  stopped  abruptly  not  a  great 
109 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

distance  beyond,  where  their  baying 
seemingly  became  more  furious  than 
at  any  time  before  during  the  trip, 
and  increased  in  distinctness  as  the 
party  advanced,  the  reverse  of  which 
would  have  been  the  case  were  they 
still  running  the  trail. 

In  a  few  moments  Boggs  and  his 
companions  had  passed  the  projecting 
point  of  the  mountain's  side,  where 
almost  immediately  the  trail  broad 
ened  out,  and  ran  through  a  rela 
tively  level  plateau  five  or  six  hun 
dred  rods  wide.  Its  upper  edge  was 
fringed  with  a  dense  growth  of  pine, 
beyond  which,  but  elevated  thirty  or 
forty  feet,  was  a  beautiful  prairie, 
apparently  several  square  miles  in  ex 
tent. 

They  could  now  see  the  dogs  close 
no 


THE  RESCUE. 

to  the  timber  rushing  backward  and 
forward  in  front  of  some  dark  object 
as  yet  undiscernible.  Near  by  it  a 
horse  was  quietly  cropping  the  dried 
grass.  Boggs  recognized  the  animal 
immediately,  notwithstanding  its  great 
distance,  as  the  Kentucky  thorough 
bred  owned  by  Curtis,  famous  all  over 
the  region, —  for  there  was  not  another 
such  horse  in  the  Territory;  he  could 
not  be  mistaken,  and  the  others  of 
his  party  agreed  with  him. 

This  discovery  of  course  excited 
them  all;  for  now  they  felt  assured 
that  the  mystery  surrounding  the  fate 
of  the  missing  man  would  probably 
soon  be  solved.  Boggs  and  the  two 
Americans  broke  into  a  quick  lope 
the  moment  they  struck  level  ground, 
leaving  the  Mexican  to  come  after 
in 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

them  with  the  burros  at  their  usual 
gait. 

In  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
they  came  up  to  where  the  hounds 
were,  and  a  sight  confronted  them 
that  almost  made  their  hair  stand  on 
end,  old  mountaineers  as  they  were. 
Drenched  in  his  own  gore,  and  tightly 
bound  with  a  hair  lariat  to  a  stunted 
oak  sapling  above  the  trail,  was  the 
apparently  lifeless  body  of  Dick  Cur 
tis  1 

They  recognized  him  more  by  his 
magnificent  physique  and  the  pres 
ence  of  the  horse,  than  by  his  fea 
tures,  for  his  face  was  one  mass  of 
blood,  which  had  also  trickled  down 
his  limbs  and  formed  in  little  pools 
on  the  brown  sod  at  his  feet.  Scarce 
ly  a  rod  distant,  right  on  the  trail 


THE  RESCUE. 

directly  in  front  of  him,  were  the 
mangled  remains  of  an  Indian  wo 
man,  who  had  evidently  been  torn  in 
pieces  by  the  dogs  I  So  completely  in 
shreds  was  she  that  Boggs  and  his 
men  could  not  tell  whether  the  wolves 
had  already  been  at  work  or  not; 
probably  not,  though,  or  Dick  would 
have  shown  signs  of  their  visit  too. 
Lying  near  her  were  a  rude  flint  knife, 
a  broken  bow,  and  an  otter  quiver 
half -filled  with  arrows.  The  horse, 
which  had  now  come  up,  neighing,  to 
the  party,  was  also  terribly  wounded, 
the  whole  of  his  right  flank  having 
seemingly  been  torn  by  the  sharp 
claws  of  some  wild  animal. 

While  the  two  Americans  were  con 
templating  in  silence  this  horrid  spec 
tacle,  half  paralyzed  by  the  suddenness 

—8  113 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

of  the  shock,  Boggs  had  dismounted 
and  was  endeavoring  to  learn  whether 
a  spark  of  animation  remained  in  the 
rigid  form  of  Curtis;  but  all  of  them 
supposed  him  to  be  dead.  His  heart 
just  moved  —  that  was  all  that  could 
be  said. 

As  soon  as  that  fact  was  discovered 
they  cut  the  lariat  that  bound  him, 
and  laying  him  on  the  grass,  the  two 
Americans  commenced  to  chafe  those 
portions  of  his  limbs  where  the  cruel 
cord  had  sunk  deep  into  the  flesh,  to 
restore  the  circulation,  while  Boggs, 
pulling  a  flask  of  brandy  from  the 
inside  pocket  of  his  shirt,  raised  the 
wounded  man's  head,  pried  his  teeth 
open  with  a  bowie-knife,  and  poured 
a  liberal  portion  of  the  strong  liquor 
down  his  throat.  In  a  few  seconds  the 
114 


THE  RESCUE. 

effect  was  visible  :  Dick  gave  a  convul 
sive  gasp,  and  fell  back  moaning. 

Now  they  knew  that  life  was  not 
extinct,  and  the  Mexican,  who  by  this 
time  had  arrived,  was  ordered  to  make 
a  fire  quickly.  A  soft  bed  of  pine- 
needles  covered  with  blankets  was 
improvised,  upon  which  Dick  was 
carefully  placed,  and  as  soon  as  some 
water  was  heated  his  face  was  washed, 
to  learn  the  nature  and  extent  of  his 
injuries.  His  face  was  hacked  all 
over,  as  were  his  arms  and  legs,  by 
the  rude  flint  knife;  an  arrow  had 
been  fixed  into  his  shoulder,  which 
required  the  combined  strength  of 
Boggs  and  one  of  the  other  men  to 
pull  out.  But  none  of  his  wounds 
were  necessarily  dangerous;  loss  of 
blood  and  want  of  nourishment  had 
"5 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

more  than  anything  else  brought  him 
BO  low.  They  were  certain,  however, 
but  for  their  timely  arrival  he  would 
Boon  have  been  dead. 

As  closely  as  Boggs  could  approxi 
mate  it,  Dick  must  have  been  without 
anything  to  eat  or  drink  for  at  least 
seventy-two  hours,  presuming  that  the 
hounds  had  started  for  home  immedi 
ately  after  he  became  insensible  and 
they  had  killed  the  squaw,  and  sup 
posing  that  all  had  occurred  on  the 
morning  of  the  day  they  had  arrived 
at  the  cabin.  How  much  more  time 
might  have  possibly  elapsed,  they 
could  only  learn  by  comparing  notes 
with  Curtis  himself,  which  of  course 
he  was  unable  to  furnish  them  as  yet ; 
but  there  was  no  doubt  that  the  death 
of  the  woman  was  the  work  of  the  dogs. 
116 


THE  RESCUE. 

The  next  thing  to  be  done  now  was 
to  prepare  some  nourishment.  A  soup 
of  jerked  venison  was  hastily  made, 
coffee  boiled,  and  both  fed  to  Dick, 
sparingly  at  first,  under  which  treat 
ment  in  a  couple  of  hours  his  strength 
was  considerably  recuperated  and  his 
senses  completely  restored.  But  he 
did  not  utter  a  word  I 

That  evening  a  litter  was  construct 
ed  of  small  but  strong  oak  poles  and 
a  pair  of  blankets,  which  was  intend 
ed  to  be  slung  between  the  two  bur 
ros,  as  Curtis  was  too  weak  to  ride 
otherwise.  ( This  method  of  trans 
porting  dead  or  wounded  men  is  fre 
quently  resorted  to  in  the  mountains 
where  there  are  no  wagon-roads,  and 
is  copied  from  the  Indians.) 


117 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Dome^comtng. 

DICK  passed  a  comfortable  night, 
considering  his  exhausted  condition, 
and  by  sunrise  in  the  morning  the 
party  started  on  their  return  trip,  ex 
pecting  to  make  the  cabin  by  evening 
if  no  accident  befell  them,  as  it  was 
only  thirty-two  or  thirty-three  miles 
at  most,  and  now  they  were  acquaint 
ed  with  the  trail.  The  provisions, 
except  what  would  be  required  for 
their  noon  meal,  and  all  the  camp 
equipage,  were  abandoned,  so  that  the 
burros  might  carry  Dick  and  his  lit 
ter  as  lightly  laden  as  possible  over 

the  rough  road. 

uS 


THE  HOME-COMING. 


When  they  had  proceeded  about 
half-way  on  their  journey,  Boggs 
with  commendable  forethought  left 
the  party  and  hastened  on  to  apprise 
Clariss  of  her  husband's  coming,  for 
the  sympathetic  old  man  was  fearful 
that  Dick's  terribly  cut-up  face  would 
too  severely  shock  the  young  wife's 
nerves  were  she  to  see  him  without 
gome  kind  of  preparation.  He  did 
not  know  her  firmness  and  force  of 
character  as  well  'as  does  the  reader. 

Boggs  came  in  sight  of  the  cabin 
from  the  top  of  the  mesa  just  as 
night  began  to  envelop  the  little  val 
ley  in  its  shadow,  although  it  was 
but  a  short  time  after  three  o'clock, — 
for  the  hundred  peaks  of  the  Range 
which  encompass  it  cut  off  the  sun's 
rays  long  before  he  has  really  set, 

IIQ 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

and  during  the  winter  mouths  dark 
ness  comes  early  into  the  great  canon. 
His  approach  was  heralded  of  course 
some  time  before  he  emerged  from  the 
sumac  copse,  by  those  ever -vigilant 
sentinels  "Buck"  and  "Tige,"  whose 
deep  notes  had  commenced  the  mo 
ment  his  horse  had  entered  the  gorge, 
more  than  a  mile  from  them  —  so 
acute  were  their  scent  and  hearing. 

At  the  first  warning  from  the  dogs 
Mrs.  Boggs  and  Clariss  hastened  to 
the  sumacs,  where  they  anxiously  wait 
ed  ten  minutes  or  more  before  Boggs 
rode  out  of  the  bushes  that  obscured 
the  trail.  The  instant  he  saw  the 
dim  outline  of  the  two  women  in  the 
gloaming  he  blew  a  shrill  blast  of 
his  hunting -whistle,  a  signal  which 
had  been  agreed  upon  between  them 

120 


THE  HOME-COMING. 

before  he  went  away,  should  Dick  be 
found  alive. 

When  the  discordant  sound  reached 
the  poor  girl's  ears  it  seemed  sweeter 
to  her  than  the  carol  of  birds  in  the 
springtime,  and  she  fell  upon  Mrs. 
Boggs's  neck  in  her  joy,  for  it  re 
lieved  her  of  a  mighty  burden  of  sor 
row  and  soul  -  suffering.  Only  that 
morning  the  two  fur -laden  burros 
which  Boggs's  party  had  passed  011 
the  trail  reached  the  cabin,  their  ar 
rival  filling  her  with  new  suspicions, 
and  nearly  extinguishing  her  already 
waning  hope  —  an  effect  diametrically 
opposite  to  that  predicted  by  the 
searching  party. 

His  horse  cared  for,  Boggs  entered 
the  cabin,  and  by  the  cheerful  fire 
told  the  now  somewhat  excited  girl 

121 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

the  strange  story  of  the  party's  ad 
ventures  and  the  way  Dick  was  found. 
He  of  course  made  the  details  as  lit 
tle  repulsive  as  possible  and  as  en 
couraging  as  the  facts  would  warrant, 
but  beyond  what  he  and  his  compan 
ions  had  witnessed  they  were  as  igno 
rant  as  she, —  for  Dick  had  been  per 
sistently  reticent;  he  would  not  talk 
about  the  terrible  experience  he  must 
have  passed  through.  Boggs  firmly 
believed  his  silence  was  caused  by 
chagrin ;  Dick,  he  supposed,  dreaded 
to  admit  that  he  had  been  vanquished 
by  a  squaw :  but  Boggs  kept  his  sur 
mises  to  himself. 

Arrangements  were  then  made  to  re 
ceive  the  wounded  man,  and  an  ex 
cellent  supper  was  prepared  for  the 
others,  now  momentarily  expected. 

122 


THE  HOME-COMING. 

It  seemed  an  interminable  length 
of  time  to  the  anxious  wife,  and  more 
than  three  hours  elapsed  after  Boggs's 
arrival  before  "Buck"  and  "  Tige " 
announced  by  their  characteristic  bay 
ing  the  approach  of  something.  In  a 
few  moments  after  this  demonstration 
of  warning  by  the  dogs,  the  party  was 
at  the  door.  Dick  was  carried  in  and 
placed  on  a  pallet  made  of  buffalo 
robes  near  the  huge  fireplace,  up 
whose  cavernous  throat  the  yellow 
flames  now  roared,  filling  the  room 
with  a  golden  sheen.  Claries  looked 
calmly  on,  her  beautiful  face  suffused 
with  unutterable  joy,  while  rough  but 
loyal  hands  performed  their  office; 
then  when  these  men  in  their  honest- 
hearted  sense  of  seemliness  went  out 
into  the  night,  she  gently  stepped  to 
123 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

where  Dick  was  so  quietly  lying,  and 
half  suppressing  a  cry  of  rapture, 
pillowed  her  head  on  his  brawny 
breast. 

It  would  be  a  profanation  to,  As- 
modeus-like,  lift  off  the  roof  of  that 
humble  cabin  and  intrude  our  pres 
ence  on  this  reunion  of  loving  hearts ; 
rather  let  us  emulate  those  broad- 
gauged  "sons  of  the  border,"  and  re 
main  with  them  outside  of  the  room, 
oblivious  of  the  sacred  scene,  only 
ever  remembering  that  though  the  re 
finement  of  a  conventional  gentility 
is  to  all  such  children  of  nature  a 
sealed  book,  their  affection  is  as  deep 
and  enduring  as  that  the  highest  cul 
ture  can  instill :  the  grizzly  will  die 
for  her  cubs  and  the  cowardly  wolf 
fight  for  her  whelps,  and,  as  rude  as 
124 


THE  HOME-COMING. 

the  demonstration  of  love  by  these 
people  may  appear,  it  is  no  less  pure 
and  strong  for  the  time  being  than 
that  which  abides  in  the  gentlest 
mother's  breast. 

The  next  day,  Dick  having  suffi 
ciently  recuperated  to  no  longer  re 
quire  other  care  than  that  which 
Clariss  could  bestow,  Boggs,  his  esti 
mable  wife,  and  those  who  had  ac 
companied  them,  repaired  to  their 
several  homes,  carrying  with  them  a 
sense  of  having  done  their  duty  and 
the  inextinguishable  gratitude  of  Dick 
and  his  now  joyful  young  wife. 


I25 


CHAPTER  XV. 

tells  tbe  Stors  ot  tbe 
Squaw's  terrible  1Rex>enGe 


THE  evening  after  all  those  who 
had  done  so  much  "Good  Samaritan" 
work  had  departed,  Dick  was  strong 
enough  to  sit  up.  He  and  Clariss,  as 
of  old,  took  their  accustomed  places 
about  the  cheerful  fire  ;  she  doing 
some  simple  sewing,  while  he,  reticent 
as  usual,  dreamily  gazed  into  the 
glowing  embers.  The  faithful  Buck 
and  Tige  were  comfortably  curled  up 
on  their  pile  of  rejected  furs  in  one 
corner,  and  the  now  more  than  ever 
beloved  intelligent  deer-hounds  in  an- 
126 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

other.  Were  it  not  for  Dick's  bat 
tered  face  and  bandaged  shoulder,  one 
might  have  supposed  nothing  had  oc 
curred  to  disturb  the  monotonous  rou 
tine  which  had  characterized  their 
original  happy  life  of  the  first  years 
passed  there. 

Strange  yet  familiar  pictures  pre 
sented  themselves  in  rapid  succession 
to  Dick's  mental  vision  as  he  ear 
nestly  contemplated  the  coals  on  the 
great  hearth  before  him :  he  saw  again 
the  low-browed  mountains  of  his  boy 
hood  home;  the  spring  near  Tom  Pol 
lock's  door,  where  he  had  "fust  sot 
eyes  on  Clariss,"  gurgled  musically 
as  of  old  in  his  ears;  he  roamed  once 
more  the  almost  gameless  forests  of 
the  "bloody  ground";  and  thus  his 
bewildered  brain  continued  to  weave 
127 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

out  of  the  embers  those  long  since 
forgotten  scenes  of  his  early  days,  un 
til  he  could  hardly  contain  himself, 
the  memories  of  the  past  crowded  so 
thick  upon  him. 

Clariss  furtively  watched  him  in 
his  evident  abstraction,  but  ventured 
no  word,  patiently  waiting  for  him 
to  speak,  which  she  felt  he  must  do 
presently,  and  she  would  then  know 
the  cause  of  his  discomfiture,  so  pal 
pable  to  her  discerning  mind. 

The  mortification  of  his  recent  ad 
venture  had  made  him  disgusted  with 
life  there,  and  he  wanted  to  return 
to  his  people,  where  he  could  relegate 
the  shame  of  his  "rotten  luck,"  as 
he  had  been  mentally  terming  it,  to 
oblivion.  But  he  knew  that  he  must 
unfold  to  his  trusting  wife  the  ques 
ts 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

tion  of  his  leaving,  which  he  had  now 
seriously  determined  upon ;  and  how 
she  would  regard  it,  worried  him. 

"Little  geirl,"  he  began, —  his  pet 
term  whenever  he  entered  upon  the 
confidential  with  Clariss, —  "Little 
geirl,  I  hev  ben  thinkiii'  powerful 
sence  we-uns  hev  sot  hyar  ter-night, 
an'  I  hev  seed  things  which  hez  kim 
kind  o'  suddint  in  ther  fire,  an'  they 
hev  hanted  me." 

"Dick,  I  know'd  yer  wuz  a-lookin' 
ez  ef  suthin'  wuz  on  yer  mind  yer 
wanted  ter  git  shet  of,  w'en  yer  sot 
an'  peered  so  stiddy  inter  ther  coals 
ez  yer  uster  back  ter  pap's  'fore  we- 
uiis  kim  outen  ter  this  hyar  kentry. 
Wat's  a-botherin'  o'  yer?"  replied 
Clariss,  in  response  to  his  appeal,  as 
she  dropped  her  work  and  gazed  ear- 
—9  129 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

nestly  into  the  scarred  face  of  her 
husband,  which  now  in  the  vanishing 
light  of  the  rapidly  dying  fire  looked 
strangely  dark  and  humiliated. 

"Waal,  little  geirl,  ther  fac'  is  I 
haint  a-goin'  to  leave  this  hyar  cheer 
tell  yer  know  all  ez  is  a-worritin'  o' 
me!  Ef  I'd  a-'spected  w'at  I'd  hed 
ter  kim  ter  in  these  hyar  Rocky 
Mountings,  I  '11  be  dad-burned  ef  we- 
uns  hed  ever  lef  ol'  Kaintuck  I  But 
thai*  —  things  mought  hev  ben  wuss ; 
I  haint  got  no  grudge  agin  the  place, 
yer  onderstan',  little  geirl,  fer  thar 
haint  no  sech  mountings  fer  varmints 
nowhar  ez  I  hev  heered  on,  an'  I 
'lowed  we-uns  ud  jess  live  hyar  reg'lar 
tel  one  on  us  wuz  tuk  orf,  an'  I  de- 
clar'  I  hed  no  idee  o'  levin'  ef  it 
war  n't  w'at's  brought  me  ter  this 
130 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE, 

hyar  cabin  all  cut  up  ;  an'  ef  it 
hadn't  ben  fer  them  thai*  Boggses 
ther  wolves  ed  hed  my  carkuss  clean 
picked  afore  now;  an'  'twuz  done 
through  thet  thar  dad-burned  squaw 
—  me  raised  'mong  ther  cussed  breed, 
too;  an'  I  thought  I  knowed  all  'bout 
the'r  carryin's  on!  I  wouldn't  cared 
haffen  ez  much  ef  it  hed  ben  er  buck 
In jin  —  but  ter  be  so  laid  out  by  er 
dad-burn  squaw,  sech  rotten  luck  gits 
me!  I  haint  tol'  no  one  yit  how  it 
war  did  —  an'  it  war  er  blessin'  thet 
I  kep'  my  mouth  shet;  but  I  specs 
them  ez  fouii'  me  hez  er  toler'ble 
idee,  an'  folkses  ez  live  'round  hyar 
is  bouii'  ter  git  hoi'  on  it,  an'  ez 
soon  ez  it  air  hearn,  I  mought  jess 
ez  well  be  in  hell.  Fer  yer  know  I  'd 
be  er  no-'count  critter  sure  'nough, 
13* 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

with  thet  thar  desgrace  a-hangin'  over 
me,  an'  likely  throwed  inter  my  face 
suddint,  any  time  an'  anywharl" 

"I  dunno,  Dick,"  said  Clariss,  as 
the  poor  fellow  buried  his  head  with 
shame  in  his  sympathetic  wife's  lap 
— "I  dunno,  Dick,  jess  w'at  we-uns 
oughter  do.  Though  I  'd  hate  power 
ful  ter  leave  hyar,  yer  knows  bes'. 
I'm  mos'  afeared  thar  haint  no  ch'ice 
but  ter  git.  But,  Dick,  yer  haint  tol' 
me  nothin'  yit ;  I  hev  ben  nigh  crazy 
ter  hyar,  though  I  wuz  boun'  not  ter 
ax  yer  tel  yer  wuz  well,  ez  I  didn't 
want  ter  bother  yer.  Mebbe  yer  be 
feelin'  ez  if  yer  mought  tell  me  all 
'bout  it  now,"  pleadingly  urged  Cla 
riss  as  she  lovingly  ran  her  small 
fingers  through  Dick's  shabby  locks, 
forgetting  apparently  that  he  had 
132 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

prefaced  his  remarks  with  the  assur 
ance  that  he  would  withhold  nothing 
from  her. 

"Thet's  'zactly  w'at  I  means  ter 
do,  little  geirl,  ez  I  hev  tol'  yer,''  re 
sponded  Dick,  as  he  felt  her  magnetic 
touch  thrill  through  every  fiber  of  his 
body,  and  raising  his  head  again,  con 
tinued  :  "  f  er  yer  know  now  we-uns 
hez  got  ter  git  outen  this  hyar  keii- 
try,  an'  it  is  right  yer  oughter  know 
why  I  'm  hevin  ter  do  it,  so  ez  not 
ter  hev  yer  'low  I  'm  onreasonable 
'bout  it.  Jess  how  this  hyar  fuss  kim 
ter  happen  I  wants  yer  ter  onderstan' 
'fore  we-uns  goes  ter  sleep  ter-night, 
fer  I  'spect  ter  light  out  mighty  sud- 
dint  w'en  I  gits  things  all  sot,  but 
thet  '11  tuk  mor  'n  a  week  arter  I  kin 
git  outen  this  hyar  cabin. —  Clariss, 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

yer  mought  jess  throw  er  handful  o' 
them  thar  knots  onto  ther  fire  'fore 
it  goes  clean  out,  fer  I  haint  begin 
ter  tell  yer  haffen  w'at  I  wants  ter 
yit,  an'  it 's  more  'n  likely  ter  git 
toler'ble  cold  ef  we-uns  sets  hyar 
'thout  any  fire." 

Clariss  promptly  placed  a  large 
armful  of  the  huge  mountain -pine 
cones  on  the  almost  extinguished  em 
bers,  and  in  a  few  moments,  as  the 
crackling  flames  rose  up  the  wide 
throat  of  the  huge  chimney,  the 
giant  shadows  began  their  weird  play 
on  the  whitewashed  walls,  the  dogs 
stretched  themselves  out  on  their  pile 
of  furs  as  the  room  warmed  up,  and 
Dick,  lying  on  his  pallet  of  buffalo 
robes  by  the  side  of  the  immense  fire 
place,  asked  Clariss  to  sit  close  to 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

him,  taking  her  little  hand  in  his 
great  paw;  and  contemplating  her  for 
a  few  seconds  as  the  yellow  flames 
lighted  up  her  now  sad  face,  he  be 
gan  again  the  story  of  his  "rotten 
luck,"  but  so  full  of  interest  to  his 
patient  wife: 

"  Yer  see,  little  geirl,  in  ther  fust 
place,  I  never  tol'  yer,  ez  I  'd  oughter 
a-did,  thet  I  killed  thet  thar  womin's 
husban' — she  ez  wuz  a-botherin'  o' 
yer,  yer  know  —  fer  hevin'  interfered 
with  my  beaver  traps  down  onter  ther 
branch  one  day.  I  never  let  on,  yer 
know,  when  she  brunged  thet  thar 
dead  baby  ter  yer,  an'  yer  thought 
Tige  hed  killed  it.  She,  dad-burn  it, 
war  a-follerin'  o'  me  all  ther  time 
then.  An'  " 

"Oh,    Dick  I  "    interrupted    Clariss, 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

as  she  looked  imploringly  into  his 
face,  her  eyes  suffused  with  tears, 
"yer  haint  got  thet  thar  innercent 
baby's  blood  ter  answer  fer,  hev  yer  ? 
Yer  didn't  kill  thet  child,  too?  Ye 
didn't  do  thet?  Tell  me,"  she  cried, 
as  she  leaned  her  head  on  his  breast, 
overcome  by  the  depth  of  her  grief. 

"No!  Clariss;  ez  I  hopes  ter  be 
fergiven  et  Judgemint,  I  didn't,— 
least  I  didn't  knife  nor  shoot  ther 
poor  critter;  I  haint  so  wicked  ez 
thet,  though  its  mother  laid  ther 
blame  outer  me.  Ther  fac'  is,  it  war 
her  own  doin's;  it  jess  died  o'  star 
vation;  she  natarally  dried  up  while 
she  war  a-houndin'  my  trail,  dad-burn 
her  I  It  war  her  own  fault:  w'at  call 
hed  she  ter  be  a-f  oiler  in'  o'  me  ?  I 
could  got  shet  o'  her  any  time  a'inos'; 
136 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

but  I  'lowed  it  war  too  dern  wicked 
ter  shoot  her." 

Clariss  grew  nervous  and  excited 
beyond  precedent  as  Dick  made  these 
horrible  disclosures  to  her,  so  entirely 
unexpected;  for  she  had  never  for  a 
moment  thought  her  husband  capable 
of  murder  under  any  circumstances, 
and  the  terrible  revelation  completely 
unnerved  her.  She  sobbingly  begged 
him  to  go  on,  to  tell  her  all,  so  that 
she  might,  in  her  own  pure  mind, 
find  some  palliation  for  his  crime. 
As  yet  she  saw  nothing;  the  recital 
was  revolting,  and  she  was  deeply 
distressed  ;  but  she  refrained  from 
becoming  too  demonstrative,  endeav 
oring  to  keep  her  thoughts  to  herself. 

"But  Dick,"  she  pleadingly  urged, 
as  she  noticed  that  he  seemed  inclined 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

to  end  his  Btory  there,  "yer  haint 
tol'  me  yit  how  yer  kim  ter  be  tied 
an'  cut  up,  an'  how  '  Kaintuck '  got 
hurted  BO  bad:  don't  yer  kip  nothin' 
back  from  me  now,  Dick  !  " 

"  Little  geirl,  I'm  a-kimmin'  ter 
thet;  I  don't  'low  ter  kip  nothin' 
back;  but  I  seed  how  it  war  'fectin* 
yer,  an'  it  kind  o'  hendered  me  a-go- 
in'  on. 

"Waal,  Clariss,  I  seed  ther  track 
o'  thet  pesky  womin  wharever  I  'd 
went  arter  I  killed  her  husban' ;  I 
didn't  mind  it  et  fust  —  I  hed  them 
thar  dorgs,  Pont  and  Bruce;  I  war  n't 
af eared  —  I  knowed  they'd  tuk  car'  o' 
me ;  but  how  she  kim  ter  get  the  bes* 
o'  me  arter  all,  I  'm  dad-burned  ef  I 
know;  it  war  jes'  my  rotten  luck,  I 
'specs. 

138 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

"  Clariss,  I'd  lied  ter  yer  w'en  I 
tol'  yer  I  war  a-goin'  buffaler-huntin'. 
I  'd  went  back  yander  ter  them  Span 
ish  Peaks,  whar  I  'd  hed  sech  'mazin' 
luck  afore,  an'  I  killed  an'  trapped 
more  varmints  nor  them  burros  o' 
mine  could  pack,  an'  I  hed  ter  cache 
mos'  o'  ther  pelts;  so  afore  we-un» 
gits  outen  hyar  I  '11  hev  ter  git  'em, 
ez  they 's  wuth  a  powerful  'mount  o' 
money. 

"Waal,  ter  git  back  ter  w'at  I  wuz 
a-tellin'  yer:  I  war  a-gittiii'  on,  think- 
in'  o'  hum  an'  how  soon  I  'd  be  thar, 
snakin'  along  kind  o'  easy-like,  'spect- 
in'  ter  reach  ther  cabin  with  my  skins 
next  night,  an'  sech,  an'  hed  got  ez 
fur  ez  thet  thar  little  perarer  by  them 
thar  pines  w'at  Boggs  hev  tol'  yer 
'bout;  thar  ther  trail  runs  down  in- 
139 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

ter  a  swale,  leavin'  or  kind  o'  'cut- 
bank,'  ther  top  o'  which  jess  kirns 
'bout  ter  a  man's  head,  ef  he  war 
a-walkin' ;  but  dad-burn  it  !  'fore  I  'd 
reached  thar,  er  pint  o'  woods  stan'e 
out. 

' '  Thar  them  thar  dorgs  winded  er 
monst'us  black  bar,  an'  w'en  I  kiin 
up  ter  whar  they  hed  ther  varmint 
on  ther  stan', — sort  o'  tangled  up  in 
er  bunch  o'  trees  ez  hed  blowed  down, 
er  'win'fall,'  yer  know,  sech  ez  yer 
hev  seed  in  ther  timber  'roun'  yer 
pap's  in  ther  Cumb'lin  Range, — waal, 
I  seed  ther  bar  ther  minute  I  rid  up; 
so  I  jumps  off  Kaintuck, —  he'll  stan' 
anywhar,  yer  know.  We  war  then  — 
him  an'  me  —  right  on  ther  edge  of 
ther  timber  an'  under  er  clump  o' 
heavy  oaks,  w'ich  was  clost  together 
140 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

an'  growin'  'mong  ther  pines;  BO  I 
on'y  hed  ter  go  'bout  er  hundred  foot 
'fore  I  wuz  in  range  o'  ther  bar, 
standin'  thar  quiet  an'  a-watchin' 
ther  dorgs.  I  pulled  up  ol'  Nance, 
drawed  er  bead,  an'  knocked  him  cold 
fust  shot.  Yer  see,  I  didn't  stop  ter 
load  ag'in,  like  er  dad-burned  fool  ez 
I  wuz, —  I'm  sartaiii  I  never  acted 
thet  thar  way  'fore, —  but  outs  with 
my  knife  an'  'gins  ter  skin  ther  beast. 
I  tell  yer,  Clariss,  thet  thar  pelt  o' 
hisn  war  a  beauty,  but  I  've  clean 
lost  it,  an'  I  wouldn't  er  tuk  two 
dollars  fer  it  —  dad-burn  ther  rotten 
luck! 

"Waal,  I  hed  n't  got  ther  bar  mor'n 

half  skun,  w'en  I  hearn  Kaintuck  gin 

ther  awfullest  squall  I  an'  ez  I  looked 

up  mighty  suddint  ter  whar  I  'd  lef ' 

141 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

him,  I  could  see  him  plain  from  whar 
I  stood, —  an'  I'll  be  dad-burned  ef 
er  monst'us  painter  hedn't  sprung 
outen  one  o'  them  thar  oaks  an'  lit 
right  onto  '  Kaintuck's '  flank,  whar  he 
hung  on,  an'  war  a-clawin'  an'  a-chaw- 
in',  try in*  ter  hoi'  his  grip,  while 
'  Kaintuck  '  war  a-kickin'  an'  a-squeal- 
in',  an'  runnin'  roun'  in  er  circle  1 
In  course  Bech  er  varmint  would  start 
any  hoss,  'specially  ef  it  war  on  him : 
it  started  '  Kaintuck '  an'  me  too.  I 
drops  my  knife  an'  runs  ez  fas'  ez  I 
could  git  over  the  groun'  ter  help 
'Kaintuck'  git  shet  o'  ther  lion  — 
thet  's  w'at  folkses  hyar  calls  'em, 
'  mounting  lions ' ;  but  ther  haint 
nothin'  but  painters,  same  ez  we-uns 
us'  ter  hunt  in  ther  Cumb'lin  Range 
w'en  I  war  er  boy. 
142 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

"Waal,  'fore  I'd  got  ten  rod,  a-go- 
in'  ter  whar  my  gun  war,  hyar  kim 
them  dorgs,  'Bruce'  an'  'Pont,'  jess 
a-tearin'  'long;  I'd  called  'em,  yer  see, 
ther  minute  I'd  sot  eyes  on  ther  var 
mint  a-hangin'  onter  '  Kain tuck's  ' 
back,  an'  ye  'd  orter  seed  thet  thar 
painter  drop  off  en  him  an'  light  out 
fer  ther  timber  w'en  he  heerd  'em! 

"Like  er  dad-burned  fool,  I  never 
picked  up  Nance,  an'  ez  soon  ez  ther 
painter  let  go  his  holt  on  '  Kaintuck ' 
ther  hoss  knowed  he  war  shet  on  him; 
an'  w'en  he  seed  me  an'  ther  dorgs 
a-comin',  he  stopped,  an'  I  catched 
him, —  or  ruther,  he  kim  up  ter  me. 
Yer  never  seed  sech  er  sight  on  a 
beast:  he  war  all  clawed  an'  bit,  an' 
bleedin'  powerful,  an'  tremblin'  like 
er  poplar. 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

"Waal,  I  'lowed  ter  myse'f  that 
I  'd  walk  him  ter  whar  I  seed  some 
tall  bunch-grass  under  thet  thar  dad- 
burned  cut-bank  on  ther  trail  I  wuz 
a-tellin'  yer  'bout,  thinkin'  I  mought 
mop  some  er  ther  blood  offeii  him, 
ter  larn  how  bad  he  war  hurted,  then 
leave  him  an'  go  back  an'  finish  skin- 
nin'  ther  bar  an'  git  ol'  Nance,  fer 
I  'd  never  ben  so  fer  from  my  gun 
afore. 

"We's  jess  got  to  whar  thet  thar 
bank  war  highest,  my  head  'bout  level 
with  ther  top,  but  I  couldn't  see  over 
it,  w'en  all  ter  onct,  suddint  ez  light- 
nin'  —  whizz  1  whirr  !  bangl  kim  er 
dad -burned  lariat  roun'  my  neck  1 
'  Kaintuck '  he  gin  er  snort;  he  could 
see  w'at  was  a-goin'  on  an'  who  wuz 
a-doin'  it,  an'  he  jumped  clean  away 
144 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE, 

from  me, —  he  hates  er  Ingin  ez  wuss 
ez  me, —  an'  ther  fust  thing  I  knowed 
I  didn't  know  nothin' !  Ther  dad- 
burned  ha'r  rope  hed  choked  me  blind. 
I  growed  dizzy  all  ter  onct,  an'  I 
couldn't  see  nor  hyar  no  more  nor 
er  mole ! 

"Waal,  w'en  I  kim  to, —  fer  ther 
dad-burned  rope  quit  a-chokin'  me  so 
bad, —  thar  I  wuz  all  woun'  up  in 
thet  thar  lariat  wuss  nor  er  bluebot 
tle  in  er  spider's  web  1  Tied  tighter 
nor  er  nigger  w'at  's  a-goin'  ter  be 
whipped,  ter  a  old  dead  pine,  an' 
thet  thar  dad-burned  squaw  a-dancin' 
roun'  me  ez  ef  she  war  crazy,  an'  me 
'thout  any  knife,  gun,  nor  dorgs. 
Durn  my  rotten  luck  !  —  Pont  an' 
Bruce,  yer  see,  hed  lit  out  fer  thet 
thar  painter,  an'  couldn't  hyar  me 

-10  145 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

calliu'  on  'em,  an'  thar  I  was,  fer 
thet  thar  ornery  womin  ter  kyarve 
me  up  ef  she  war  er  mind  ter, —  an' 
I  'spect  thet  war  w'at  she  'lowed  ter 
do. 

' '  How  ther  thing  war  did  so  sud- 
dint  I  'm  dad-burned  ef  I  kin  tell ; 
an'  it  makes  me  feel  ez  ef  I  war  er 
borned  idjit  w'en  I  think  on  it.  Me 
ter  be  did  up  theterway  by  er  dad- 
burned  squaw — it  beats  ther  hants 
w'at  cuts  up  so  ornery  in  ther  mount 
ings  back  in  ol'  Kaintuck  1  Thar, 
Clariss,  right  in  front  o'  me  stood 
thet  thar  womin,  jess  like  she  war  er 
she-grizzly  w'at  hed  lost  her  cubs  1 
Her  eyes  war  a-snappin',  an'  she 
pulled  her  ha'r,  howled,  danced  roun' 
like  er  lunatic,  all  ther  time  a-singin' 
o'  her  outlandish  gibberish,  w'ich  I 
146 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

couldn't  no  more  onderstan'  then  er 
blue-gee  in  ther  timber.  Waal,  arter 
er  w'ile  she  kind  o'  quieted  down, 
'cause  ez  how  her  jaws  gin  out,  I 
'specs;  then  she  comminced  ter  talk 
ter  me,  not  any  milder  in  her  voice, 
fer  she  war  now  a-howlin'  agin,  but 
she  quit  cavortin'  roun'  me  so  spry- 
like.  In  course  I  didn't  onderstan' 
her  words;  I  hed  no  call  ter  —  her 
signs  war  so  plain  thar  war  no  need- 
cessity  ter  know  w'at  her  jaws  war 
a-tryin'  ter  tell  me. 

"She  made  me  onderstan',  fust, 
thet  it  war  me  ez  hed  killed  her  hus- 
ban',  an'  thet  she  war  a-goin'  ter  eat 
my  heart  fer  it  !  Then  she  'lowed 
she'd  followed  me  more'n  two  moons, 
ter  git  holt  o'  me,  a-walkiii'  on  my 
trail  tel  her  baby  hed  died  jess  'cause 


A   PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

she  couldn't  gin  it  any  milk;  an'  fer 
thet  she  war  goin'  ter  roas'  my  liver, 
an'  then  leave  my  bones  on  ther  pe- 
rarer  thar,  jess  ez  I  bed  lef  his'n, — 
meanin'  her  husban'.  Theterway  she 
gin  it  ter  me  fer  more  'n  ten  minutes 
'fore  she  started  in  ter  cut.  Then, 
fust,  she  jess  jabbed  me  all  over  with 
thet  dad-burned  dull  flint  o'  her'n, 
tel  I  begin  ter  feel  kind  o'  faint-like, 
she  'd  bled  me  so  powerful,  yer  see. 
How  I  did  wish  an'  pray  fer  them 
two  houn's  to  kim,  w'ich  I  kip  callin' 
ez  long  ez  I  hed  stren'th! 

"Wen  she'd  got  tired  o'  jabbin' 
me  she  started  in  ter  dance  an'  cavort 
'roun'  me  ag'in ;  but  she  soon  gin 
thet  up,  an'  then  I  seed  her  stop  all 
o'  a  suddint,  ez  ef  she  war  thinkin' 
w'at  ter  do  next,  an'  arter  er  minute 
148 


THE  SQUAW'S  REVENGE. 

she  comminced  ter  pull  a  arrow  outen 
her  quiver,  an'  then  I  thought  sure 
'nough  I  war  did  fer,  an'  hed  'bout 
gin  up;  but  w'en  she  drawed  back 
her  bow  an'  let  fly,  an'  I  knowed  I 
wuz  on'y  hit  in  ther  shoulder,  I  war 
sartain  she  war  not  ready  ter  kill  me 
jess  yit,  an'  I  still  hed  hopes  them 
thar  dorgs  might  kim.  But  I  war 
nigh  'bout  dizzy  then,  an'  I  couldn't 
see  nothin';  everything  war  black 
afore  me;  jess  ther  las'  thing  I  'mem 
bers  wuz  hearin'  ther  bayin'  o'  Pont, — 
I  knowed  his  voice ;  an'  then  I  never 
knowed  nothin'  more  tel  thet  thar 
brandy  o'  Boggs's  brunged  me  to." 

Dick   then    suddenly  became   silent, 

and    gazed    intently    at    Clariss,  who, 

with  blanched   cheeks  and   eyes  filled 

with    tears,    appeared    to    be    looking 

149 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

into  vacancy,  BO  terribly  had  the  hor 
rid  recital  worked  upon  her  gentle 
nature. 

At  last  Dick  spoke,  after  he  had 
been  attempting  to  read  his  wife's 
thoughts,  but  had  failed: 

"Thar,  little  geirl,  I  hev  tol'  yer 
all,  an'  it  bothers  me  ter  see  yer  tuk 
on  thetaway;  w'at 's  did  kain't  be 
undid,  an'  we-uns  mus'  soon  git  outen 
hyar." 

Clariss  did  not  reply,  but  with  a 
sigh  she  got  up,  and  throwing  a  bear 
skin  over  Dick, —  the  fire  was  out 
now, —  she  laid  down  on  her  bed  and 
cried  herself  to  sleep. 


150 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

tbetr  <3oR>, 


IN  less  than  a  week,  Dick  had  so 
far  recovered  from  his  wounds  as  to 
be  able  to  move  around  and  com 
mence  preparations  for  his  departure. 
He  first  went  north  to  the  spot  where 
he  had  cached  his  furs  on  his  last 
disastrous  trip,  and  taking  them  to 
the  Agency  store  at  Rayado,  convert 
ed  them  into  cash,  and  bartered  for 
sufficient  provisions  to  last  himself 
and  Clariss  on  their  projected  journey 
across  the  Plains  to  the  Missouri 
river. 

He  then  turned  homeward  with  his 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

well -laden  burros,  accompanied,  of 
course,  by  the  ever-faithful  "Bruce" 
and  "Pont,"  not  forgetting  to  make 
a  detour  to  the  spot  where  the  squaw 
had  vanquished  him,  in  order  to  re 
cover  his  pet  rifle  Nance.  He  found 
it  intact,  as  there  had  been  no  storms 
to  rust  it.  The  bear -robe  and  the 
bear  had  been  devoured  by  wolves, 
as  had  been  the  unfortunate  squaw; 
for  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
of  going  to  the  cut-bank,  so  full  of 
horrid  memories,  and  he  saw  what 
was  left  of  his  antagonist, —  only  a 
few  bones,  bleaching  where  she  had 
fallen  in  her  endeavor  to  avenge  her 
wrongs. 

All  this  required  about  ten  days  of 
his  time,   and  on  the   evening  of  the 
day  he  arrived   at  the   cabin   he   and 
152 


COUNTING   THEIR   GOLD. 

Olariss  took  their  places  at  the  huge 
fireplace,  but  for  the  last  time.  Pres 
ently  Dick  reached  from  a  hole  in 
the  chimney  a  couple  of  canvas  shot- 
bags,  and  pouring  their  contents  of 
gold  and  silver  upon  the  bear-robe 
that  covered  the  pallet  at  the  side  of 
the  jamb,  asked  Clariss  to  help  him 
count  it. 

This  was  indeed  a  mental  strain  to 
which  their  brains  were  entirely  un 
used,  and  great  beads  of  perspiration 
stood  in  groups  on  Dick's  forehead 
as  he  essayed  to  collect  the  refractory 
twenty  -  dollar  and  ten -dollar  pieces 
into  something  like  symmetrical  piles. 
Clariss  with  her  deft  fingers  had  bet 
ter  success.  She  arranged  the  smaller 
coin,  which  submitted  more  easily  to 
her  gentle  touch;  and  after  an  hour 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

and  a  half  of  hard  work,  by  the  aid 
of  a  dead  coal,  and  a  piece  of  brown 
paper  that  had  served  its  mission  as 
a  wrapper  for  a  new  pair  of  shoes  for 
Claries  that  Dick  had  brought  from 
Rayado,  they  succeeded  in  adding  the 
values  of  the  several  piles,  and  they 
aggregated  the  large  sum  of  five  thou 
sand  eight  hundred-and-odd  dollars, — 
an  immense  fortune  for  people  of 
their  class,  sufficient  for  their  needs, 
back  in  Kentucky,  if  judiciously  hus 
banded,  for  the  remainder  of  their 
lives. 

The  severe  labor  ended,  they  betook 
themselves  to  bed,  worn  out  by  the 
demands  that  evening  had  made  upon 
their  brain,  where  golden  visions  in 
their  literal  interpretation  now  danced 
through  their  heads. 
154 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

to  tbe 
IRaton 


THE  next  morning,  a  deliciously 
charming  morning  of  the  young  new 
year,  Dick  and  Clariss  bade  good-by 
forever  to  the  rude  cabin  which  had 
been  the  scene,  for  nearly  six  years, 
of  so  much  happiness  and  misery. 
Dick  was  mounted  on  "Kaintuck," 
who  too,  like  his  master,  had  com 
pletely  recovered,  but  was  terribly 
scarred;  and  Clariss  on  her  favorite 
pony.  They  left  the  mouth  of  the 
great  canon  just  as  the  sun  began  to 
tinge  the  crests  of  the  mighty  mesas 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

with  its  hazy  wintry  light.  Before 
them  were  driven  all  of  their  patient 
burros,  on  whose  willing  backs  were 
packed  the  provisions  for  their  long 
journey  across  the  Kansas  plains,  and 
the  few  personal  effects  that  either 
Dick  or  Clariss  cared  to  carry  back 
to  the  home  of  their  youth.  The 
dogs,  too,  accompanied  their  master 
and  mistress,  the  former  evincing  the 
intensity  of  their  canine  joy  as  they 
ran,  barked  or  howled  in  turn.  Dick, 
sad,  reticent  and  desponding,  and 
Clariss  tearful,  as  they  crossed  the 
first  divide,  about  a  mile  from  the 
cabin,  and  which  now  shut  off,  for 
all  time  to  come,  its  rough  but  to 
her  familiar  and  dear  outline. 

They  arrived  at  Boggs's  that  even 
ing,    just   as   the    twilight   curve    met 
156 


THE  FAREWELL. 

the  line  of  the  mountain's  horizon 
and  darkness  had  commenced  to  cover 
the  long  valley  of  La  Purgatoire, 
where  Dick  and  Clariss  were  welcomed 
with  all  the  warmth  and  honesty  the 
words  implied  in  the  great-hearted 
West. 

It  had  been  arranged  some  time 
previously  that  Dick  and  Clariss 
should  pass  their  last  night  before 
they  left  at  the  Boggs  hospitable 
home,  where  from  thence  the  next 
day  they  would  join  a  caravan  owned 
by  Col.  St.  Vrain,  of  Mora,  en  route 
to  Independence,  Mo.,  at  that  time 
the  objective  point  of  all  travel  on 
the  Santa  Fe  trail. 

The  kind-hearted  Boggs  wanted  to 
purchase  the  burros  and  Clariss 's 
pony,  which  it  had  been  determined 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY. 

to  leave  behind ;  but  neither  she  nor 
Dick  would  listen  to  such  a  proposi 
tion  as  taking  money  from  those  who 
had  done  so  much  for  them.  They 
made  the  good  old  man  to  whom  they 
were  so  deeply  indebted  —  very  reluc 
tantly,  however  —  accept  them  as  a 
gift,  together  with  "Buck"  and  "Tige." 
The  deer-hounds,  "Bruce"  and  "Pont," 
Clariss  declared  she  would  never  part 
with, — there  were  too  many  sad  and 
joyful  memories  clustering  around 
them, —  and  that  she  would  care  for 
them  as  long  as  they  lived  or  she 
had  a  crust  to  divide.  So  it  was  de 
termined  that  the  beloved  animals 
should  go  back  to  "  ol'  Kaintuck." 

By  noon  the  next  day  the  expected 
caravan,  with  its  long  line  of  white- 
covered  wagons,  made   its   appearance 
158 


THE  FAREWELL. 

on  the  trail  in  the  distance,  miles 
away  yet;  and  soon  Dick  and  Clariss, 
accompanied  by  the  Boggses,  rode 
down  to  the  point  where  the  road 
from  the  ranch  intersected  the  great 
highway  to  the  Missouri.  Dick  was 
mounted  on  "Kaintuck,"  and  Clariss 
on  her  pony  for  the  last  time.  The 
provisions  and  bedding  were  trans 
ported  in  a  rude  Mexican  caretta, 
driven  by  one  of  Boggs's  native  peons, 
its  huge  wooden  wheels  groaning  at 
every  turn  they  made.  The  precau 
tion  had  been  taken  to  securely  fasten 
the  hounds  "Buck"  and  "Tige,"  but 
the  poor  dogs  tugged  and  strained  at 
the  ends  of  their  stout  chains,  howl 
ing  mournfully  all  the  time  in  their 
futile  efforts  to  get  loose,  for  they 
seemed  to  realize,  as  Dick  and  Clariss 
159 


A  PIONEER  FROM  KENTUCKY, 

rode  away,  that  their  master  and  mis 
tress  were  abandoning  them  forever. 

In  about  three  hours  the  caravan 
arrived,  halted,  and  in  the  last  wagon 
was  placed  a  woolen  mattress  for  Cla- 
riss's  comfort.  Then  she  and  Dick 
bade  an  affectionate  farewell  to  their 
friends,  and  the  great  train  moved  on. 

In  a  short  time  only  a  cloud  of  dust 
marked  its  place  low  down  on  the 
eastern  horizon  in  the  vast  wilderness 
of  monotony  surrounding.  And  thus 
Dick  and  Clariss  are,  too,  lost  sight 
of  to  us  in  the  purple  mist  that 
spreads  over  the  far-stretching  prairie, 
warning  us  that  the  night  has  come. 


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